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FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 




(mtza^s <lrLA^fi^h- r 



FORTY YEARS OF 
ACTIVE SERVICE 



Being Some History of the War Between the Confederacy and the 

Union and of the Events Leading up to it, with Reminiscences 

of the Struggle and Accounts of the Author's Experiences 

of Four Years from Private to Lieutenant-Colonel and 

Acting Colonel in the Cavalry of the Army of 

Northern Virginia 



also 



Much of the History of Virginia and the Nation 
in Which the Author Took Part for many Years 
in Political Conventions and on the Hustings and 
as Lawyer, Member of the Legislature of Vir- 
ginia, Judge, Member of the House of Representa- 
tives of the United States and Governor of 
Virginia 



BY 
CHARLES T. O'FERRALL 



{Third Thousand) 



New York and Washington 
THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1904 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Kecelvea 

DEC 5 1904 

Copyricni tntry 

■■3+1.3,, *qc*^ 

OO-' XXc. Noi 
20HY U. 



Copyright, 1904 
By Charles T. O'Ferrall 



L- U> ! ~ 



04-L 



CONTENTS. 
PART I. 

THE WAR BETWEEN THE CONFEDERACY AND THE UNION. 

I. Events Preceding the War 1 1 

II. The Opening of the Great Drama 19 

III. First Happenings in the Valley 26 

IV. Jackson's Work in the Spring of '62 32 

V. From Cross Keys to Cedar Run 41 

VI. Second Battle of Bull Run 46 

VII. The Advance into Maryland 51 

VIII. Jones's West Virginia Raid 57 

IX. Battle of Brandy Station 64 

X. Upperville and Incidents 70 

XI. Picket and Scout Duty 86 

XII. New Market and Piedmont 94 

XIII. Lynchburg — Early's Raid to Washington 

and Return 106 

XIV. Battles of Winchester and Fisher's Hill .... 114 
XV. Events in the Valley Toward the End 126 

XVI. Anecdotes and Incidents of Service 139 

XVII. The Personnel of the Confederate Army ... 147 

XVIII. A Trying Episode After the War 155 

XIX. The Horrors of War 161 

XX. Conclusions Drawn from the Great Conflict 170 

PART II 
the author's official uee 

I. Washington College — General Lee 181 

II. In the Legislature and on the Bench 191 

III. State Politics from 1877 to 1882 208 

IV. The Rise and Fall of Mahone 220 

V. From Congress to the Gubernatorial Chair . . 228 



> CONTENTS 

VI. Events of Forty-eighth to Fifty-third Con- 
gresses 250 

VII. Some Notable Contested Election Cases .... 266 

VIII. Incidents of the Fifty-second Congress .... 279 

1 X. The Tariff, Free Silver, Etc 286 

X. The Force Bill— Direct Tax Bill— French 
Spoliation Claims — the Navy — Patron- 
age 299 

X 1 . Congress a Brainy Body — Some Instances . . 307 

XII. Arthur and Harrison — Grover Cleveland .. 332 

XIII. Bond Issue — Currency Question 344 

XIV. Conclusion — President McKinley — General 

Daniel Morgan ; . . . 354 



INTRODUCTION. 

Since my retirement from official life, January the first, 
eighteen hundred and ninety-eight, I have been often and 
persistently requested by my Confederate comrades and 
friends in social, business, and official circles to write my 
reminiscences of my four years' service as a cavalryman in 
the Army of Northern Virginia under the command respec- 
tively of Beauregard, Johnston, Smith, and Lee, and my 
many years of official life, as a boy court clerk, mem- 
ber of the legislature, judge, member of the House of Rep- 
resentatives, and Governor of the State of Virginia. Con- 
scious of the time and labor such an undertaking would in- 
volve and my inability to fully cover the ground over which 
I would have to travel, I have refrained. But being still 
strongly urged I have finally yielded, and shall now en- 
deavor as best I can, plainly and without attempt at rhetoric, 
to put in print some of my recollections of the occurrences, 
events, and incidents of the years of war and peace I have 
mentioned, the former necessarily stirring and the latter 
more or less exciting and thrilling. 

My pen will not be dipped in the ink of gall, nor tipped 
with malice or injustice. I shall endeavor to give no of- 
fense, and if perchance I should do so it will be, as I think, 
in the interest of truth. I may make mistakes, for it is 
human to err, but it will give me infinite pleasure to correct 
them as soon as they are brought to my attention. I shall 
endeavor to condense and aim at brevity, leaving much still 
in the store-house of my memory. 

Interspersed through the volume will be many stories and 
anecdotes of both war and official life which may elicit mirth 
or draw a tear. 

The whole will be written in the spirit of a fraternal 
Union of the two sections of our once divided but now re- 
united land. 



PART I 

THE WAR BETWEEN THE CONFEDER 
ACY AND THE UNION 



CHAPTER I 

EVENTS PRECEDING THE WAR. 

The Cause of the War — John Brown's Raid — Brown's Expectations — 
Beginning of Secession — The State Convention to Consider the 
Question of Seceding from the Union — Dates of Different Ordi- 
nances of Secession — My Stand and Peculiar Situation — A Brave 
Mother's Decision. 

The war between the States from 1861 to 1865 was the 
result of a conflict of opinions and interests that developed 
itself in the very infancy of the American Union, but the 
match that ignited the fire of secession was struck by John 
Brown on October 16, 1859, at Harpers Ferry, situated at 
the junction of the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers, in Jef- 
ferson County, Virginia, now West Virginia, where a Fed- 
eral arsenal and armory were located. I was then a boy of 
eighteen, and was attending an Agricultural Fair at Win- 
chester. 

"The Continentals," an old military company wearing 
the Continental uniform, was ordered to Harpers Ferry, and 
I was given permission to join them. 

Brown, who had been fighting slavery in Kansas for five 
years, had suddenly changed his field. He had a few 
months previous rented a farm with a number of houses on 
it not far from Harpers Ferry, and there he had his meet- 
ings and collected his arms and ammunition sent to him in 
well-secured boxes from the North. 

When everything was ready, as Brown thought, on Sun- 
day night, October 16, 1859, ne entered the town of Harpers 
Ferry and seized the National Arsenal, with its 100,000 to 
200,000 stands of arms, and arrested many citizens, among 
them Colonel Washington and Mr. Alstadt — the former a 
large farmer and close kinsman of George Washington, and 
the latter the master armorer of the Federal Armory. The 
number of men Brown had with him was never known. 
Most writers have fixed the number at twenty-two — seven- 



12 



FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 



teen white and five colored, but the citizens of the town al- 
ways believed there were many more. 

Brown openly declared that his object was "to free the 
slaves," and when one of his guards at the Arsenal gate was 
asked by what authority they had taken possession of gov- 
ernment property, he replied, "By the authority of God 
Almighty." 

But while Brown was in possession of the town, and wait- 
ing and hoping for the uprising of the negroes, which he 
had been assured would occur, he was sealing his doom. 
He might have escaped that Sunday night, but when the 
dawn of Monday came his fate was irrevocably fixed. The 
male residents of Harpers Ferry had recovered from the 
shock, and began to fire upon the insurrectionists. Very 
soon militia from Charlestown, the county seat, arrived, 
and men from the surrounding country, armed with shot- 
guns and squirrel-rifles, came pouring in, and every avail- 
able exit was guarded to prevent escape. 

In a few hours eight of the insurgents were dead, and 
four others, three of them mortally wounded, were captives, 
and Brown, with all of his unhurt men, except Cook and sev- 
eral others, who had escaped during the night, had taken 
refuge in the Armory engine-house, a brick building stand- 
ing just inside of the gate to the government grounds. 

Monday night, about 10 o'clock or later, a company of 
ninety United States Marines and two pieces of artillery 
arrived, under the command of Col. Robert E. Lee, the 
handsomest man, I thought, I had ever seen. The town 
was then filled with a seething mass of at least fifteen hun- 
dred armed and infuriated Virginians and Marylanders. 

At seven o'clock Tuesday morning Lieutenant J. E. B. 
Stuart, of the United States Army, advanced under flag of 
truce and demanded Brown's surrender; this he defiantly 
refused. Instantly a detachment of marines, under the com- 
mand of Lieutenant Green, rushed upon the building, and 
using a ladder as a battering-ram, broke in the door, and 
a iter all the resistance Brown could offer, brought him and 
his men out and liberated Colonel Washington, Mr. Alstadt, 



EVENTS PRECEDING THE WAR 1 3 

and other citizens, who had been held as prisoners from the 
previous Sunday night. 

Brown and four of his followers, including Cook, who 
was arrested somewhere in the North and extradited, were 
given quick trials, and on December 2, 1859, expiated then- 
crime on the gallows at Charlestown. 

Some writer has said : "Brown actually expected the raid 
on Harpers Ferry would be the stroke with which Moses 
called forth water from the rock. The spring was to turn 
southward and in its swift course to swell to a mighty river. 
He declared expressly to Governor Wise, and later still in 
letters, that he had not intended simply to break the chains 
of a few dozen or a few hundred slaves, and to take them to 
Canada — emancipation was to be spread farther and farther, 
and the freedmen were to remain in the Southern States. 
Heaven itself could not have brought this about unless it 
had sent the angel of judgment to cast down into the dust 
the whole white population from Florida to Maine." 

This raid aroused the entire South to a realization of the 
perilous condition of affairs, and she began to prepare for 
what seemed to be a coming conflict. Volunteer companies 
were organized and equipped by scores and scores in every 
Southern State. It also developed the spirit of abolitionism 
into a most acute and alarming stage. 

On December 20, i860, a little more than one year after 
Brown's execution, South Carolina seceded, and this was 
the opening of the sad drama which grew fiercer and fiercer, 
sadder and sadder, as it was played, until the curtain fell 
upon it at Appomattox. 

The Winchester company with which I went to Harpers 
Ferry arrived too late to do any fighting. We were marched 
from Halltown to the upper end of the Armory grounds, 
after nightfall, and there we were told that some of the in- 
surgents were hiding among the buildings. So we were 
thrown into a skirmish line and with our guns at port and 
thumb on hammer and finger on trigger, we moved through 
the grounds, Mr. Thomas T. Fauntleroy — late a judge of 
the Supreme Court of Appeals of Virginia — and I march- 



14 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

ing side by side, expecting every moment to flush an insur- 
gent; but there were none to be flushed — all that had not 
escaped or been killed or captured were with their fanatic 
leader in the engine-house. 

It is a significant fact that although Brown's expressed 
purpose was the liberation of the slaves, and he had pro- 
claimed himself the special friend and benefactor of the 
negro, his first victim at Harpers Ferry was a negro. This 
man was a railroad watchman, and upon his refusal to turn 
over certain keys in his possession he was instantly killed. 
So the first blood shed upon Virginia soil by this boasted 
negro liberator was the blood of a faithful negro — shed be- 
cause he refused to betray a trust. 

With deliberation and in cold blood, Brown with his own 
hand shot to death the mayor of the town from a port-hole 
in the engine-house, known in after years as "Brown's 
Fort." 

Among the military companies formed in Virginia after 
this incursion was the "Richardson Artillery," named in 
honor of General Richardson, then the Adjutant-General of 
the State, organized at my home, Berkeley Springs, Morgan 
County, and I was elected third lieutenant. Instead, how- 
ever, of being supplied with artillery equipment, we were 
furnished with small-arms, most of them of an inferior and 
antiquated kind. While Brown and his living co-insurgents 
were in jail in Charlestown awaiting trial, rumors that an 
attempt would be made by Northern sympathizers to res- 
cue them were rife, and my company was put on guard duty 
at a crossing of the Potomac River, above Harpers Ferry, 
and we remained there until the executions had taken place. 
We were of course very vigilant, but no Northerners ever 
came, and we never had an opportunity to fire a shot at an 
enemy or to win a spangle of glory. 

When this outrage upon her law and the peace and safety 
of her homes occurred Virginia was united in her execration 
of the horrible deed, and her people were clamorous for the 
meting out of the death penalty upon every surviving in- 
surrectionist : there was not a Virginian who would not 



EVENTS PRECEDING THE WAR [5 

willingly have put the rope around the neck of every one of 
them. But the vindication of the law and the punishment 
of arch-violators proved very soon to be one thing and se- 
cession entirely another, particularly with a vast number of 
the men who lived in the border counties of the State. 

South Carolina seceded, as I have said,December20, 1860, 
and the excitement became intense in Virginia. Public 
opinion was divided on the question of secession. On Jan- 
uary 7, 1861, Virginia's Legislature was convened in extra 
session, and subsequently provided for the assembling of a 
convention to determine what course Virginia should pursue. 
It passed resolutions recommending the Southern States to 
appoint commissioners to a National Peace Convention to 
be held in Washington at an early day, "for the purpose 
of adjusting the present unhappy controversies in the spir- 
it in which the Constitution was originally framed." The 
legislature also appointed ex-President John Tyler a com- 
missioner to the President of the United States, and Judge 
John Robertson to South Carolina and "the other States 
that have seceded or shall secede, with instructions respect- 
fully to request the President of the United States and the 
authorities of such States to agree to abstain, pending the 
proceedings contemplated by the action of this general as- 
sembly, from any and all acts calculated to produce a col- 
lision of arms between the States and the Government of 
the United States." 

President Buchanan replied that he possessed 1:0 power to 
enter into such an agreement. The legislature, pending a 
reply from the President, made an appropriation of $1,000,- 
000 for the defense of the State. In the meantime hostili- 
ties had begun in South Carolina, and Fort Sumter was 
virtually in a state of siege. On February 13 the State Con- 
vention met in the city of Richmond. The delegates were 
divided — some were "conditional" Unionists, a few favored 
immediate secession, and the residue were "unconditional" 
Unionists. The first class were, however, in the majority. 
On or about March 10 a report was submitted by a majority 
of the Committee on Federal Relations, composed of four- 



1 6 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

teen resolutions, condemning the interference with slavery, 
asserting the right of secession, and defining the circum- 
stances under which Virginia could justifiably sever her 
connection with the Union; which were the failure to se- 
cure guarantees from the Northern States that her institu- 
tions would not be interfered with, and assurances from the 
general Government that coercive measures against any of 
the Southern States would not be resorted to and that cus- 
toms duties would not be demanded of the States that had 
seceded, and no attempt made to reinforce or recapture 
Southern forts. The discussion of the resolutions was ani- 
mated, indeed warm, but they were nearly all adopted when 
Fort Sumter fell and the President's proclamation calling 
for troops to subjugate the seceding States was issued. 
This closed the discussion, and almost instantly an ordi- 
nance of secession was passed by a vote of eighty-eight 
ayes to fifty-five nays. On the fourth Tuesday in May the 
ordinance was submitted to the qualified voters of the State, 
— that is, all white men over twenty-one years of age, not 
ex-convicts, idiots, or paupers, — and it was ratified by a 
vote of 128,789 "for" to 32,031 "against" it. 

The following States besides South Carolina had pre- 
ceded Virginia in passing ordinances of secession : Missis- 
sippi, January 9; Florida, January 10; Alabama, January 
11; Georgia, January 19; Louisiana, January 26; Texas, 
February 1 ; and following Virginia came Arkansas, May 6: 
North Carolina, May 21, and Tennessee, June 8. Then the 
eleven States which constituted the Confederacy had sol- 
emnly covenanted to link their fortunes together in a com- 
mon cause and desperate purpose to sever the Union of the 
Fathers and maintain a separate nationality against the 
combined powers of the other States with their unlimited 
resources, overwhelming numbers, and all foreign lands 
from which to recruit. 

At the election in my home county for a delegate to the 
State Convention there were three candidates — one was a 
"conditional" Union man, another an "unconditional" 
Union man. and the third was a secessionist per se. The 



EVENTS PRECEDING THE WAR 1 7 

first, Johnson Orrick, closely pressed by the second, was 
elected, while the third had only a few supporters. 

My delegate stood out in the convention against seces- 
sion as long as there was a spark of hope that war could be 
averted; but that spark was extinguished by the call for 
troops to subdue and conquer Virginia's sister Southern 
States, and he promptly voted for and appended his signa- 
ture to the Ordinance of Secession. 

While the convention was in session the border and 
northwestern counties were in a state of great excitement. 
Fathers were arraying themselves against sons, and sons 
against fathers, and brothers against brothers, and kinsmen 
against kinsmen, and friends against friends, and families 
against families. When the Morgan County delegate re- 
turned from the convention there were few to do him 
honor; the Union sentiment had grown into mighty pro- 
portions during his absence; many who had voted for him 
were the loudest in their condemnation, while those who 
had opposed his election heaped their anathemas upon his 
head. He soon joined the army, and in 1863 testified with 
his blood his loyalty to his convictions, and now rests in an 
honored soldier's grave. 

When Virginia passed her ordinance of secession I took 
my stand with her and the South. I was peculiarly situated ; 
my mother was a widow of small means, and had two sons 
and three daughters. I was the eldest, my brother being a 
mere lad. When seventeen years of age I had been elected 
clerk of the County Court, and this enabled me to contribute 
to the support of my mother's family. 

I was not liable to military service, as my office exempted 
me; but I felt that my duty to country should prompt me 
to enlist in the ranks of her defenders, and then the thought 
of leaving my mother to struggle unaided would dampen 
my ardor, and for days there was a conflict going on in my 
bosom. Country or mother! Which shall I serve? I was 
depressed and down-hearted. Finally I determined to refer 
the matter to my mother, so one evening in the early part of 
May, 

2 



18 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

"When the sun's last rays were fading 
Into twilight soft and dim," 

as we sat talking about the war, for that was the general 
topic of every conversation, I told her of my trouble and of 
the conflict in my breast. She replied at once that she had 
no other thought than that I would join the Confederate 
Army; that I was the only prop upon which she could lean, 
and she would miss me very much, but the South needed 
every man and every boy able to bear arms, and the hard- 
ships to her would be no greater than to many other moth- 
ers. God would sustain her in her struggle, and while her 
heart almost sank within her at the thought of the dangers 
to which I would be exposed, she could not bear the idea of 
her son staying at home when Virginia was calling for all 
her sons. 

I do not undertake to give her language literally, only 
substantially; but I do give exactly her concluding words. 
They were: "My son, I think you should join the army 
at once, and while I hope you will not be reckless or ex- 
pose yourself unnecessarily, I want you to do your duty." 
This settled matters, and on the nth day of May, with a 
single comrade from the town, George W. Hunter, I bade 
all good-by and rode away with a company of mounted men 
under the command of Hon. Henry Edmundson, who had 
represented the Southwestern District of Virginia in the 
Congress of the United States. 

This company was armed with shotguns, mostly double- 
barrelled, with here and there a brace of old single-barrel 
horse-pistols carried in holsters strapped across the front 
of the saddle. 



CHAPTER II 

THE OPENING OF THE GREAT DRAMA. 

My Home in West Virginia — Unique Rules and Regulations of a Hotel 
in 1814 — Berkeley Springs — "Sergeant O'Ferrall" — Summoned to 
Testify in Court-Martial Proceedings Against an Old Friend — A 
Brave Old Man. 

The home I left was known as the "O'Ferrall House/' 
a summer hotel at Berkeley Springs, Morgan County, Vir- 
ginia, now West Virginia, and was two and a half miles 
from the Potomac River and only six miles from the Mason 
and Dixon line. It had descended from my grand- 
father, its builder, through my grandmother to my father, 
and had been purchased by my mother at the death of my 
father. In the latter part of the eighteenth and the early 
half of the nineteenth century Berkeley Springs was a popu- 
lar health resort. It was among the gayest, most attractive, 
and fashionable summer retreats of the South. There so- 
cial ties were formed, friendships cemented, politics dis- 
cussed, party plans determined, and matters of state con- 
sidered by grave and distinguished men. It was the sum- 
mer home of George Washington, and the roof of the 
O'Ferrall House covered the heads of many of the first men 
of the land. It was conducted under rules which would be 
regarded as out of date these days. The bar and office were 
kept in one room, and the barkeeper and clerk were one and 
the same person. There was absolute regularity in the 
meal hours, and the time for eating was by no means un- 
necessarily long. The gayety of the evenings — which con- 
sisted principally of dancing, always concluding with the 
old Virginia Reel — commenced at 9 o'clock and ended not 
later than 12 o'clock. A few years ago I visited this old 
home of my youth and budding manhood, and I was shown 
by the proprietor the "Rules and Regulations of the O'Fer- 
rall House" in the summer of 1814. They had been found 
in the garret, tacked on a board. 



2 o FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

They were interesting, and in comparison with the hotel 
rules and regulations of modern times peculiar, as will be 
seen. I here give them as near as possible. 

Rule i— Guests will be charged for shaving and dressing, unless they 
notify the barkeeper on their arrival that they shave and dress them- 
selves. 

In those days the barbers were slaves and received no 
money from guests for their services, so unless the guest on 
his arrival notified the barkeeper that he shaved himself, 
powdered his own hair, brushed his own clothes, and pol- 
ished his own knee-buckles, when he came to settle his bill 
he was charged with the barber's services. 

Rule 2.— Meals will be served as follows : Breakfast from 7.30 to 
9 o'clock. Dinner from 1 to 2.30. Supper from 7 to 8. Ladies will 
enter first and take the seats set apart for them. Gentlemen will then 
enter and take the seats set apart for them, and they will be expected to 
conduct themselves like gentlemen. 

The custom was to put cards on the plates, each card 
bearing the name of a lady or gentleman, like the banquet 
style of the present day. But what struck me as most re- 
markable was the admonition to the gentlemen. What 
would be thought of such a thing these days ? Yet we have 
been taught that our present chivalry of the South does not 
surpass, if it equals, the chivalry of our grandfathers or 
great-grandfathers. 

Rule 3.— At 9 o'clock the Bail-Room will be thrown open and guests 
who desire to engage in festivity will please commence early, as the 
servants cannot be kept up late. 

This exhibited much care and consideration for the com- 
fort and health of the servants, who were then chattels and 
had a money value. 

The waters of Berkeley Springs, formerly called Warm 
Springs, because their temperature was 74 degrees Fahren- 
heit, were regarded as exceedingly efficacious in cases of 
rheumatism and kindred troubles; and on account of their 
curative qualities, tradition tells us, the place was neutral 
ground in Indian days, all tribes laying aside their toma- 
hawks and dispensing with their war paint when they 



THE OPENING OF THE) GREAT DRAMA 21 

camped at this fountain of health. Lord Fairfax, to whom 
the King of England had ceded an immense body of land and 
who established his home in Frederick County at Greenway 
Court, granted to the State of Virginia fifty acres, I think, 
of land, which included these springs, and being in Berkeley 
County they took the name of Berkeley Springs. Prior to 
1800 a town was laid out and chartered by the name of 
Bath. In 1820 Morgan County, named in honor of General 
Daniel Morgan, was formed from the Counties of Berke- 
ley and Hampshire. Lots were sold, and hotels, boarding 
houses, and private residences were built. Among the pur- 
chasers was George Washington, and at Mount Vernon his 
deed for his "Berkeley Springs" lot can now be seen, 
framed and under glass. His summer home was torn down 
about sixty years ago, I have been told. I give these 
facts because of my love for the home of the halcyon days 
of my youth, around which cluster sacred memories, and 
the interest that surrounds the old place at the present time. 

When I joined Edmundson's cavalry and with it rode 
away from my home with my face southward, the people of 
the town generally condemned me, and one extremely bit- 
ter Unionist yelled at me, "You will not do the d rebels 

much good ; you will be back soon to your mother ; a few 
days' camp-life and hardship will settle you." I was ap- 
parently delicate, and he predicted that I would not stand 
the service long. How much of a prophet he was will here- 
after appear. Little did I think when I parted with my 
mother, sisters, and brother that this home would be but a 
name and memory to me from that day forward, and yet 
such it became. But once while the old homestead remained 
the property of my mother, which was more than five years 
after I bade it good-by, did I cross the portals of "home, 
sweet home." This was in December, 1861, on Stonewall 
Jackson's march from Winchester to the hills opposite Han- 
cock, Maryland, and thence to Romney, when the sufferings 
of his army from the biting, freezing winter weather were 
hardly surpassed by the patriots of 1776 at Valley Forge. 

Upon reaching Winchester with Edmundson's cavalry I 
was offered the position of second sergeant in a company 



22 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

that was in course of formation, which I accepted, and be- 
came ''Sergeant O'Ferrall." 

Soon after this, I heard of the arrest of a venerable and 
highly-esteemed citizen of my home town. For many years 
there had lived at Berkeley Springs Colonel John Strother, 
a distinguished member of the large Virginia family by that 
name, and the father of David H. Strother, who under the 
nom de plume of "Porte Crayon" was the author of "Vir- 
ginia Illustrated," copies of which can now be found in the 
libraries of old Virginia families, each worth more than its 
weight in gold — in fact, priceless. 

Colonel Strother was the proprietor of the "Strother 
House," a large summer hotel. He had been a colonel in 
the war of 1812, and had won glory in this second struggle 
for American Independence ; he was as courtly a gentleman 
as any knight of old, and he was as gentle in manner and as 
tolerant of others' views as it was possible for any man to 
be who had convictions and the courage of them. His 
heart was always open to the cries of the afflicted and needy, 
and he gave freely of his substance to every call of charity. 
He was honored by all and beloved by myriads. 

When war clouds began to gather and the heavens to be- 
come murky, betokening a storm which would wreck and 
destroy, as he believed, "the grand fabric of government 
which he had fought to maintain," he was greatly troubled, 
and took his stand on the side of the Union and against se- 
cession. His influence was felt in the community, and 
many, following his example, took the same stand. 

Suddenly one night in the early summer of 1861, without 
a moment's notice, a company of Confederate cavalry rode 
into the town and proceeded immediately to the "Strother 
House" and surrounded it. The officer in command dis- 
mounted and demanded admittance. Colonel Strother 
himself opened the door, and he was at once put under ar- 
rest and as quickly as possible carried away, without a 
single word of explanation from the officer except, "We 
have been ordered to arrest you and take you to Winches- 
ter." 



THE OPENING OF THE GREAT DRAMA 23 

Some days after the arrest I was ordered to appear before 
a court martial at the cavalry camp near Winchester, "to 
testify against Colonel Strother." I obeyed the order and 
reported, wondering all the time what the charges could be, 
and what I could testify to against this man, who in my esti- 
mation was incapable of doing a wrong. I found the court 
martial in session and Colonel Strother sitting in the tent 
under guard. I was called and sworn, and these questions 
propounded to me : 

First : "Do you know Colonel John Strother, and if so 
how long have you known him?" 

I replied: "Yes, I know Colonel Strother, and have 
known him ever since I have been old enough to know any 
body." 

Second: "How have you regarded him — a Union man 
or Southern man?" It then flashed upon my mind that he 
was being tried for disloyalty to the South, and being young 
and not knowing what the consequence of a conviction 
might be, I hesitated. I was instantly admonished that I 
must answer the question and do so promptly. 

I replied : "I have regarded him as favoring the Union 
and opposing secession. "All right," said my interlocutor. 
Third : "State whether Colonel Strother has been active 
in manufacturing Union sentiment, and whether he en- 
deavored to induce you and other young men to stay out 
of the Confederate Army?" 

Before I could answer the question Colonel Strother said : 
"Mr. President and gentlemen — I can see that the appear- 
ance of this young man as a witness against me is not pleas- 
ant to him. I have known him from his cradle; he has 
grown up under my eye and I have always been his friend 
and was his father's friend before him, and when his father 
died I supported this boy for the clerkship of the court, 
which he gave up when he joined the Confederate Army. I 
hope you will let me relieve him of his embarrassment by 
answering your questions myself. Will you?" The Presi- 
dent nodded his head, at the same time saying, "We will 
hear you, but we may desire to examine this young man fur- 
ther." Colonel Strother thanked the President, and re- 



24 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

sumed: "Mr. President and gentlemen — I am now and 
have been since our unfortunate troubles began in favor of 
maintaining the Union and opposed to secession. I have 
believed and believe now, that the South is engaging in an 
unjustifiable effort to destroy the Union, and which will, as 
sure as fate, result in the direst consequences to her. With 
this belief deeply rooted in me, I have felt it my duty to in- 
fluence my friends and neighbors in favor of the Union as 
far as I could, and my advice to this young man, and all 
others who like him were inclined to join the Confederate 
Army, was to keep out. How far my influence and advice 
have been effective, I know not, except I know that he did 
not heed my advice." 

Then, rising from his seat, he surveyed the surrounding 
field with his eye flashing, and said: "In the war of 1812 
my regiment, with me in command, encamped in this very 
field. I was then engaged in defending the honor and 
glory of my country. Now, about fifty years later, I am 
being tried, as I understand, for treason. Yes, treason to a 
government which has set itself up to pull down and de- 
stroy the pillars of the government for which I then fought 
and was ready to die. Treason! I thank you, gentlemen. 
Proceed, please, with your trial." 

Colonel Strother was slow and deliberate in his speech, 
and on this occasion more so than I had ever heard him. 
He seemed to weigh every word before uttering it, and then 
emphasized it as it came from his lips. After the Colonel 
had admitted all that was charged against him, there was 
nothing left for the court martial to do but to come to their 
conclusion and report their findings. What further action 
they took than that which I have related, I never heard; 
but some days after the Colonel had cut the proceedings 
short by admitting the charges against him he was released 
and permitted to return to his home, but from the night of 
his arrest until the day of his release he had been kept under 
close guard and under the eye of a sentinel on post. 

I have given as near as I can remember, after more than 
forty years, all that was done and said in that tent where 
the court martial sat on that bright summer day. The 



THE OPENING OE THE GREAT DRAMA 25 

scene was indelibly impressed upon my memory, and I have 
related, if not verbatim, substantially word for word, what 
was said by the principal actors. I have not the gift of 
language to depict the scene as it deserves. It was indeed 
worthy of an orator's tongue and a master's brush. Colo- 
nel Strother, who was then approaching four score years, 
did not live to see the result he predicted. 

I have always regarded the arrest, confinement, and treat- 
ment of this hoary-headed, decrepit, yet superb and grand 
man as an outrage upon the instincts of humanity and a 
shame and disgrace to the Confederate officer who was re- 
sponsible for it. It smacked more of the days of the Inqui- 
sition than the enlightened days of the middle of the nine- 
teenth century. He was a private citizen, holding no offi- 
cial position, who had simply and solely, at his home and 
among his neighbors and friends, expressed his honest con- 
victions as to the issues between the North and the South. 
He had committed no overt act; he had not raised his hand 
against the Confederacy; he had not taken steps to arrest 
young men as they rode away under his eye to enlist in the 
Confederate Army; he had not furnished money or supplies 
to the Union. He had done absolutely nothing but express 
his views upon a momentous question upon which his peo- 
ple were more or less divided and which was being freely 
discussed by them. His advanced age, his weak physical 
condition, his military service, his honorable life and his 
lofty standing all counted for nothing ; he was a Union man 
and had been expressing Union sentiments. That was 
enough, he must be torn from his home in the dead hours 
of night, "When ban dogs howl, and spirits walk and 
ghosts give up their graves," and carried on horseback 
thirty-six miles over rough roads, to appear before a court 
martial to be tried upon the heinous charge of treason, put 
in confinement or under close guard — humiliated and de- 
graded. Confederate from "crown to sole" as I was, I con- 
demned the act when it was done, and now with the wrinkles 
that the intervening time has traced upon my brow I con- 
demn it still. 



CHAPTER HI 

FIRST HAPPENINGS IN THE VAIXEY. 

In Shenandoah Valley on Scout and Picket Duty— Battle of Kernstown 
—An Incident of Picket Duty — A Single-Handed Capture — I Be- 
come a Lieutenant and then a Captain — Some Captures and a "Retro- 
grade" Movement — General Turner Ashby — We Note an Improve- 
ment in the Federal Cavalry— Wyndham Strikes a Snag. 

I remained a second sergeant until the spring of 1862. 
During all this time I was in the Shenandoah Valley en- 
gaged in picket and scout duty, and participated in numer- 
ous fights and skirmishes, receiving one wound which dis- 
abled me for several weeks. In March, 1862, the Battle of 
Kernstown, between Jackson and Shields, was fought, re- 
sulting in Jackson successfully meeting the vastly superior 
Federal force under Shields, and then quietly and in per- 
fect order falling back up the Valley. The night before 
this battle my company was put on picket on the Valley 
Turnpike. Our videttes were stationed at the southern end 
of Kernstown, and I was placed in command of them. The 
fires of the Federal videttes could be seen at the northern 
end of the village. 

About ten o'clock Captain George Sheets, of a Hamp- 
shire cavalry company, rode down to my post, and asked me 
if I was well mounted. I replied that I was. He sug- 
gested that he and I make a dash at the Federal outpost and 
see if we could not capture it. I remarked that there were 
probably too many of them for two of us to tackle, but he 
said that as the night was dark and the wind blowing 
toward us, by riding on the unmacadamized part of the 
road we could get close to the post and surprise it, and he 
thought we could risk it. I replied, "all right," and we 
started. 

Slowly, cautiously, and as noiselessly as possible we rode, 
until we were within less than one hundred and fifty yards 
of the pickets, when we gave our horses the spur and dashed 



FIRST HAPPENINGS IN THE VALLEY 2J 

upon them. There were five of them, and they were sur- 
prised. All sprang into their saddles, fired and fied, but we 
caught two of them, one each, the others escaping. 

This little incident, though unimportant, taught me a les- 
son; it taught me that success in cavalry comes through 
boldness and dash, and that surprise, particularly at night, 
will generally demoralize the best soldiers. In this instance 
two of us made five run, and we took two of them prisoners. 
I profited by the lesson taught me by Captain Sheets, and 
many a similar dash did I make thereafter, with more or 
less success. 

I was not in the Battle of Kernstown the next day. My 
company was sent on a scout into Clarke County. Between 
Millwood and Berryville the company halted for a rest, 
but I rode on for the purpose of seeing some friends who 
lived about a mile farther down the road. After riding 
perhaps half the distance, at a quick turn in the road I came 
unexpectedly upon a Federal army wagon with a single 
mounted man with it. Instantly I drew my pistol, dashed 
upon him, and called upon him to surrender; being entirely 
surprised, with no opportunity to defend himself, he sur- 
rendered. He was a Lieutenant Luce, an army engineer, 
and as well as I remember a New Yorkes, Not dreaming 
there were any Confederates within many miles of Berry- 
ville, he was out measuring certain distances with a cyclo- 
meter. He was mounted on a fine bay horse. He was 
very much chagrined and mortified at his capture, and said: 
"You took me by surprise; now give me a chance to escape. 
I will give you a hundred dollars if you will let me get a 
hundred yards away from you without firing on me. Then 
you may shoot or catch me, if you can." I replied : "Lieu- 
tenant, you must have great faith in the speed of your horse, 
and you can't think I am a pistol shot. Now, I am riding 
a good horse, and I shoot right well." To this he rejoined : 
"However fast your horse may be, or however well you may 
shoot, I will give you the hundred dollars if you will give 
me the start I ask ; I will take the chances." 



2 8 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

He put his hand in his pocket, thinking, I suppose, I 
would take his money and give him a chance to escape, 
when I said : "Take your hand out of your pocket and do 
it instantly. You place a very poor estimate upon a Con- 
federate soldier. I want you to understand that money 
can't buy him. You and your wagon will come along with 
me." So I turned back and soon delivered to my captain 
two prisoners, — the lieutenant and his driver, — three horses, 
and a wagon. 1 made a trade later with the regimental 
quartermaster for the lieutenant's horse, but while he was 
as swift as the wind for about six hundred yards, he was 
not good for a long chase, and I finally disposed of him. 

In April, 1862, I was elected first lieutenant in a company 
which soon became Company I of the Twelfth Virginia 
Cavalry, with Thomas B. Massie, of Warren County, as its 
captain, and in August following Captain Massie was made 
major of the regiment, as he richly deserved, for he was a 
gallant officer, and I succeeded him as captain. 

The morning after my promotion I was sent on a scout 
from our camp at Harrisonburg to observe the movements 
of a cavalry force reported to be moving through Rappa- 
hannock County in the direction of Swift Run Gap in the 
Blue Ridge. When we reached Conrad's store at the west- 
ern entrance to the gap, we learned that a full regiment of 
Federal cavalry had just passed, heading northward, down 
the Page or Luray Valley; that they recognized the fact 
they were in a dangerous section and were moving rapid- 
ly. I determined to follow them, strike their rear, and 
make some cap-iires if possible; so we started after them 
and within about two miles we overtook and charged them 
and captured some prisoners. We continued to annoy 
them, but it was not long before they discovered our force 
was small, and they turned on us and we had to make one 
of General Wise's retrograde movements. In the early 
part of the war General Wise was compelled to retire pretty 
rapidly before a force much larger than his, from a point in 
West Virginia. A soldier asked him why he was retreat- 
ing. The General replied, "This isn't a retreat; it is only 



FIRST HAPPENINGS IN THE VALLEY 20, 

a retrograde movement." The soldier said, "Well, General, 
you may call it that, but it looks to me like a retreat, and a 
pretty fast one too." The Federal cavalry did not pursue 
us fast or far; they soon turned about and continued their 
march down the Page Valley. The next morning we re- 
turned to our camp at Harrisonburg, and I delivered our 
prisoners and made my first report as a captain. 

The behavior of my men that day gave me absolute confi- 
dence in them, which was never weakened, but constantly 
strengthened from that time until I was promoted in the 
June following, after receiving a lung wound at Upperville, 
supposed to be mortal, while commanding the first squadron 
of the regiment. 

From May, 1861, until June, 1862, it was my high privi- 
lege and distinction to serve under that Prince of cavalry 
leaders — that Chevalier Bayard of the South — that Mar- 
shall Ney of the Confederacy, General Turner Ashby. To 
picture him just as I knew him, to present his deeds just as 
I saw or heard of them, would be impossible — my command 
of language, my powers of description would be totally in- 
adequate. He was truly one of the most consummate gen- 
iuses the war produced. Had he lived he would to-day 
shine on historic pages with as much brilliancy as Forrest. 
He was a native and resident of Fauquier County — a 
farmer, a superb horseman, a great fox-hunter. He was 
small of stature, his complexion dark and swarthy, his hair 
and long flowing beard as black as a raven's wing ; his eyes 
were black, soft and gentle in repose, fierce and piercing 
when he was stirred or animated. He was as sweet and 
amiable in disposition as any woman ; genial and com- 
panionable. 

Turner Ashby was as fearless as a lion, and like the king 
of the forest he never stopped to count the enemies he was 
to encounter. He was the idol of his men, and they would 
have followed his plume into the very jaws of death without 
faltering. His judgment as to the intentions of the enemy 
seemed to be unerring. He was never surprised by them, 
but was constantly taking them by surprise. He was never 



3<D FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

defeated; he was never routed; he never retreated in dis- 
order. He was ever in the front on an advance; ever in 
the rear on a retreat. In cavalry it is all in the dash, in the 
charge, and Ashby recognized this at the very commence- 
ment and taught his men by precept and example that cav- 
alry success depended upon it. He would charge the head 
of a regiment in a lane or in a defile with ten men as quickly 
as with a brigade; strike his blow and retire before the 
enemy recovered from the effects of his audacity. 

He was a terror to our foes ; his name itself demoralized 
them. I have not the space to speak of his achievements at 
length. To do so would require many pages. God in His 
Infinite Wisdom withdrew him from us in June, 1862. For 
one short year only did he serve the land he loved so well, 
but in this brief period he wrote his name in skies immor- 
tal and chiselled it so deep upon tablets that it will never be 
effaced. 

We had found it an easy task to meet and rout the 
enemy's cavalry. As a rule their cavalry were indifferent 
riders and poor shots; ours were trained in horsemanship 
and were generally good with the carbine and pistol. 

In the early spring of 1862 there was great improvement 
in the Federal cavalry ; they were better horsemen, better 
shots; they had more vim and dash. During the preced- 
ing winter the Federal Government had been directing its 
attention to the cavalry arm and selecting men for that ser- 
vice. So when the campaign opened in the spring, and 
after the routing of Banks they advanced under Fremont, 
we found their cavalry entirely different from what it had 
been. It was showing improved leadership. We could 
well see that it was being handled by a skilled, dashing, and 
fearless officer, and that we would not have as easy work 
in meeting it as usual. This fact cast no damper upon 
Ashby's men, and so far as Ashby himself was concerned 
I really believe he was gratified at the improvement of the 
cavalry he had to meet and fight. 

It was not long before we learned that the new Federal 
cavalry commander was Sir Percy Wyndham, an English 



FIRST HAPPENINGS IN THE VALLEY 3 I 

army officer who had come across the "Pond" and tendered 
his services to the Federal authorities, and had requested to 
be assigned to the command of the cavalry in the Shenan- 
doah Valley, promising "to capture Ashby and bag his 
men." His services were accepted and his request was 
granted, and Ashby and his men were to meet and grapple 
with the cavalry in blue under the leadership of a vigorous, 
brave, and ambitious officer in the prime of manhood, bent 
on capturing Ashby and bagging his men. As I have said, 
this did not frighten or dampen the ardor of Ashby and his 
men, but it acted as an inspiration to them to greater deeds 
and grander achievements. 

On from the banks of the Potomac came the spirited 
Wyndham, every movement showing vigor and determina- 
tion. Up the classic valley he moved, until finally he struck 
the object he was seeking, and then he struck "a snag" and 
had his first lesson in fighting Southern cavalry. This did 
not daunt him, however, but seemed to drive him to reck- 
lessness. 

Here I shall leave Wyndham for the present. 



CHAPTER IV. 
jackson's work in the spring oe '62. 

A Drawn Battle with Milroy— Jackson Hot After Milroy— One of 
"Stonewall's" Prayer-Meetings— The Rout of Banks— Jackson 
Between Two Federal Forces— His Masterly Strategy— Ashby versus 
Wyndham— Wyndham Captured and we Become Jubilant— Our 
Hilarity Turned to the Deepest Mourning Over the Death of Ashby 
—Who "Bagged" Wyndham? 

In the spring of 1862 Milroy's army was at McDowell, in 
Highland County, and in their front was General Edward 
Johnson's command. Jackson moved from Conrad's store 
in Rockingham County with his old division to reinforce 
Johnson, taking with him four cavalry companies, mine 
among them. Johnson, however, did not wait for Jack- 
son, but attacked Milroy, resulting in a drawn battle and 
severe Confederate loss. Our four companies of cavalry 
reached the eastern base of the McDowell Mountain the 
night after the battle, and met Johnson's army moving- 
down the mountain to go into camp. It was there that I 
met for the first time that courtly man and distinguished 
soldier, — the hero of two wars, the Mexican and Confed- 
erate, — General Wm. B. Taliaferro. He had been in the 
thickest of the fray of the day. Our cavalry in moving up 
the mountain was annoying the tired and worn infantry 
who were moving down. General Taliaferro noticing this, 
pointed out to me a way which would lead us around his 
column, and he did this in the most courteous and delight- 
ful manner. In after life I had the satisfaction of knowing 
him well and counting him among my best friends. No 
braver man ever drew blade for any land; no more loyal 
soldier did Virginia ever produce. 

During the night after the McDowell battle Milroy com- 
menced to retreat in the direction of Franklin, the county- 
seat of Pendleton County. At the break of day Jackson, 
sending the cavalry forward in hot pursuit, followed with 
all the infantry and artillery. 



jackson's work in the spring of '62 33 

Milroy had learned that Jackson had arrived, and he was 
making tracks as fast as possible to avoid an engagement 
with him, felling trees and firing the woods as he passed 
along. The cavalry under the command of the gallant 
Captain Sheets, of Hampshire, had great difficulty in pur- 
suing over the narrow mountain road and through the 
burning woods, but we finally succeeded in catching up with 
the rear of the scurrying, frightened, and demoralized army, 
and we made it warm for them from there to Franklin. 

Jackson's infantry and artillery reached Franklin on the 
morning of the second day after the Battle of McDowell. 
They were halted in the meadows west, or rather south- 
west, of the town. It was Sunday, and about noon, or per- 
haps a little before, I observed a gathering of Confederate 
soldiers under some trees on the banks of a creek whose 
cool and crystal waters coursed through green meadows. 
Approaching the gathering I soon discovered it was a pray- 
er-meeting. I dismounted, tied my horse to a convenient 
limb, and made my way to the group of perhaps fifty sol- 
diers. As I neared the place I saw Jackson, cap in hand 
and with bowed head, standing in the midst of the men, 
while some soldier was engaged in earnest prayer. It was 
Jackson's prayer-meeting. After the meeting was over 
I returned to my horse, mounted him, and rode to the camp 
of my company. 

Jackson pursued Milroy no farther, and that evening his 
army commenced to quietly creep away. He returned 
rapidly to the Valley, and moving with quick strides down 
it, surprised Banks at Middletown, striking his flank and 
playing havoc and destruction with his army. It was on 
this rapid march down the Valley that the gallant Sheets, 
who as senior captain had commanded the cavalry on the 
march to Franklin, yielded up his life at Buckton Station, 
Warren County. He was a most promising young officer, 
— none more so in the cavalry, — and if he had lived a little 
while longer stars instead of bars would have adorned his 
collar, and the historian would have revelled in his deeds 
and achievements. 



34 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

The rout of Banks surpassed in many respects anything 
of the kind I saw during the war. It beggared description. 
Pell-mell, helter-skelter, without check, without any effort 
to rally or form, the retreating mass of men, horses, artil- 
lery and wagons rushed down the Valley Turnpike, every- 
thing going at breakneck speed, while Ashby with his cav- 
alry, with carbine, pistol and sabre, was dealing death in 
their ranks, and crippling and capturing men every rod 
between every mile post. 

Banks's flying and demoralized soldiers hardly stopped 
to catch their breath until they had crossed the Po- 
tomac at Shepherdstown, a distance of quite forty miles 
from Middletown, where Jackson first struck them. Jack- 
son followed with his army to the banks of the Potomac. 

While Jackson was thus disposing of Banks's army, Gen- 
eral Shields was lying at Fredericksburg on the east, and 
General Fremont was at Romney on the west of the Valley, 
and hearing of Banks's fate and that Jackson was still mov- 
ing down the Valley, they both headed their armies for 
Strasburg with a view, it was supposed, of cutting off Jack- 
son and capturing his army. 

The force of each was as large as Jackson's army. They 
moved rapidly and could easily have formed a junction at 
Strasburg, while Jackson was many miles below and north 
of them ; but they halted — Shields eight miles east and Fre- 
mont six miles west of Strasburg. 

"Stonewall," hearing that these two armies were in his 
rear and knowing they could readily form a junction and be 
thrown across his only way to reach the upper Valley, hur- 
ried his army southward, and without halting moved 
through the gap between Shields's and Fremont's armies 
without the slightest hindrance from either, and without 
even the firing of a shot, except a little skirmish a flanking 
party which he had thrown out had with the advance of 
Fremont's army several miles west of Strasburg at Cotton 
Town. 

I believe the history of the world's wars will be searched 
in vain for such an instance of stern audacity and abiding 



jackson's work in the spring of '62 35 

faith in his army upon the part of a commander as that of 
Jackson, or such an instance of cowering recognition of 
the prowess of the opposing army and superiority of the 
opposing general as that displayed by Shields and Fremont 
(both personally brave) at Strasburg in May, 1862. 

As soon as Jackson's army had passed through the gap 
between the two Federal armies, Fremont closed in on his 
rear, while Shields moved up the Luray Valley on a par- 
allel line with Jackson. The Federal cavalry, greatly im- 
proved, and under a commander of more than ordinary 
energy and daring, commenced to dog our rear. So I 
shall now take up Sir Percy Wyndham from where I left 
him, for it was he who was at the head of the cavalry of 
Fremont's army. From Strasburg to Mount Jackson, a 
distance of twenty-four miles, there was no space of a hun- 
dred yards on the Valley Turnpike that was not the scene 
of cavalry fighting, — stubborn fighting, charge and counter- 
charge, repulse and rally, — in which the carbine and pistol 
were killing and maiming and disabling. However, our 
cavalry under Ashby was constantly showing its superiority 
over its mounted foe. Finally Mount Jackson was reached, 
and then came the supreme test of the strength and daring, 
dash and prowess of the Federal and Confederate cavalry 
under Wyndham and Ashby. 

Passing through Mount Jackson in perfect order, Ashby 
led his brigade across the bridge spanning the north branch 
of the Shenandoah River into the broad meadows known 
as Meem's bottoms, and there he prepared to meet the 
entire Federal cavalry force. A more ideal place for a 
large cavalry engagement could not have been found or de- 
sired. It was a broad sweep of hundreds of acres of level 
ground, upon which luxuriant crops of wheat and corn 
and grass had grown for scores of years; there were no 
fences to interfere and nothing to retard a charge, except 
an occasional ditch which could be cleared easily. 

Forming his men about half a mile from the river, Ashby 
awaited Wyndham's advance. The wait was not long. 
On came the Federal cavalry in handsome style, flags flying 



^6 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

and bugles sounding. Into line the regiments galloped, 
and when all were ready the command "forward" was 
given; instantly a similar command rang down the Con- 
federate lines, then "trot," then "gallop," and then about 
the same instant the command "charge" was heard from 
both sides, and the moment was at hand for the supreme 
test. Not a Confederate wavered, and with the rebel yell, 
once heard never forgotten, Ashby's cavalry with the force 
of a hurricane swept upon Wyndham's charging line. 
The struggle was brief ; the Federals gave away, and while 
they kept up a running fire, they were driven before the 
Confederates, and victory perched upon Ashby's banner. 
Our loss was slight; the enemy's was severe in killed, 
wounded and prisoners. 

It was in this fight that Ashby's famous Arabian horse 
received a wound from which he died a few hours there- 
after. The horse was of medium size, with keen and per- 
fect limbs, long, flowing mane and tail, splendid neck and 
head, and taking him all in all a perfect model. He was 
as white as snow and as brave as his master and rider, and 
that means as brave as brave could be. There is as much 
in the bravery of horses as in the bravery of men. Some 
horses are brave and some are cowardly, just as some men 
are brave and some cowardly. This horse was shot 
through his body just behind the saddle girth. After he 
was shot, with his head and tail up. his nostrils distended, 
his eye flashing, and his blood trickling down and crimson- 
ing his white sides, he carried his master to a place of safety. 

When Ashby dismounted he looked upon his noble 
friend; he saw that the splendid animal was mortally 
wounded, and with every indication of the deepest emotion 
and affection, he turned him over to a soldier, and mounting 
another steed returned to the front. The horse was slowly 
led up the Valley Pike, and about a half mile above New 
Market he fell on the road-side and died. Instantly his 
mane and tail were taken by soldiers, and later his bones, 
and all were made into trinkets, emblems, and keepsakes, 
some of which were given to me and are now in my posses- 
sion. 



jackson's work in the spring of '62 37 

Wyndham's reverse at Mount Jackson did not have the 
effect of discouraging him. The next morning bright and 
early he was on our heels as Jackson's army, with Ashby's 
cavalry covering its rear, resumed its retiring march. He 
kept close up and harrassed us not a little, and the penalty of 
straggling was capture. 

On the afternoon of Friday, June 6, 1862, our army 
passed through Harrisonburg, and about a mile south of the 
town it turned eastward and moved in the direction of Cross 
Keys and Port Republic. 

When we had gone about a mile, Wyndham made a dash 
with his cavalry; our brigade, under the command of Colo- 
nel Thomas T. Munford, of the Second Regiment, and rank- 
ing officer, met his charge, Ashby having left us, why or for 
what purpose we did not then know. We repulsed and 
routed Wyndham's men again and captured Wyndham 
himself. 

While we were engaged with Wyndham we heard heavy 
infantry firing on our right and not far off. Our practised 
ears told us that it was a stiff fight. 

Soon after repulsing and capturing Wyndham and driv- 
ing his men some distance, it being late, we were ordered to 
move on toward Cross Keys and seek camping places for 
the night. We were all in high glee and spirits; we had 
met and defeated the Federal cavalry in two pitched en- 
gagements in square fights of cavalry against cavalry; we 
had Wyndham a captive in our hands — we were jubilant. 

Suddenly there was a lull in the hilarity at the head of the 
column, and along down the column it extended, as the 
word passed from regiment to regiment and from company 
to company that Ashby was killed. No tongue can de- 
scribe, no language can paint the effect upon his devoted 
men. Their hilarity was turned into mourning — mourning 
terrible; tears flowed in streams from eyes of the sternest 
men; moans deep came from the stoutest hearts. That 
night every camp was the scene of unspeakable distress — 
there was no sleep, no rest, the sorrow was too intense for 
eyelids to close, or nature, however worn, to seek relief in 
the arms of Morpheus. 



38 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

Never in the tide of time did any commander have a 
firmer hold upon the affection and confidence of his men 
than Ashby, and no commander whose name has ever glit- 
tered in the firmament of fame deserved it more than the 
brave and fearless, daring and dashing, ever-successful 
Ashby — the consummate cavalry leader. 

He had fallen in the infantry engagement whose musketry 
rattle we had heard on our right while we were engaged 
with Wyndham. Leaving us under the command of Col- 
onel Munford, he took command of the Fifty-eighth Vir- 
ginia and First Maryland regiments and was leading them 
against a strong, thoroughly equipped, well disciplined and 
well officered Pennsylvania regiment known as the "Buck- 
tail Rifles," so named because they were all from the moun- 
tainous region of their State, and each man wore a bucktail 
in his cap. 

In advancing to meet this superb body of men Ashby had 
remained on his horse, a sorrel, which had taken the place 
of his famous white Arabian, until his horse was killed ; 
then he continued to lead on foot, and when the fight was 
at its height and just as victory was about to gladden his 
heart, a ball pierced his body and "his warrior spirit winged 
its flight to meet a warrior's God." 

His body was borne from the field, and the next day, 
Saturday, June 7, it laid in state in the parlor of the resi- 
dence of Dr. George W. Kemper at Port Republic, wrapped 
in the Confederate flag, and when the shadows of the even- 
ing put an end to the throng which from early morning had 
been taking their last look, the flag and bier were wet with 
the tears which had rolled unchecked from the eyes of 
strong and brave men. The next day, Sunday, June 8, his 
remains were conveyed to Charlottesville and buried, and 
there they remained until after the war, when they were re- 
moved to the Confederate Cemetery at Winchester and re- 
interred by the side of his brother Richard, who was killed 
at Kelly's Island in the summer of 1861. 

Of Ashby well and beautifully did the poet write after 
his death : 



jackson's work in the spring of '62 39 

"To the brave all homage render, 

Weep, ye skies of June ! 
With a radiance pure and tender, 

Shine, oh saddened moon ! 
Dead upon the field of glory, 
Hero fit for song and story, 

Lies our bold dragoon." 

In the soldiers' section of Winchester's lovely cemetery he 
rests, and at each recurring Memorial Day in Winchester, 
the 6th of June, the anniversary of Ashby's death, Southern 
matrons and maidens bank flowers upon his grave, and 

"There throughout the coming ages, 

When his sword is rust 
And his deeds in classic pages, 

Mindful of her trust, 
Shall Virginia, bending lowly, 
Still a ceaseless vigil holy 

Keep above his dust !" 

Returning for a moment to Wyndham, I will say that 
there has always been a dispute as to who captured him. I 
saw him directly after he was taken, but I did not see 
him captured. I was told at the time to whom he had sur- 
rendered, but as I have no personal knowledge on the sub- 
ject, I will not make myself a party to the dispute by stating 
what I heard. I will say this, however, that I was in- 
formed that in endeavoring to rally his men after they broke, 
he ran upon a wide ditch or gully in the field, at which his 
horse balked; that just then a Confederate officer, whose 
name was given me, dashed up to him, when, pointing his 
sabre in the ground and swearing he would never attempt 

to command "another Yankee," he surrendered to this 

officer. However, he did not keep his word, for after he 
was exchanged as a prisoner, he met with another sound 
drubbing at the hands of our cavalry at Berryville. 

As I have previously stated, Wyndham had promised the 
Federal authorities at Washington when his services were 
accepted that "he would capture Ashby and bag his men." 
Instead, however, he was whipped in every engagement and 
was made a prisoner himself by one of Ashby's men, and 



40 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

all of Ashby's men that his command ever "bagged" were 
not enough to much more than form a corporal's guard. 
But it must strike all who read these reminiscences that it 
was a most remarkable coincidence that Wyndham was cap- 
tured and Asby was killed the same afternoon and nearly 
at the same time and almost in the same engagement. 



CHAPTER V 

FROM CROSS KEYS TO CEDAR RUN. 

Jackson and Fremont Confront Each Other Near Cross Keys — Battle 
of Cross Keys — Jackson Defeats Fremont One Day and Shields 
the Next— A Quick Move to Take Part in Battle of Gaines' Mill— 
Swinton Gives Jackson Credit of Saving Richmond — Battle of 
Cedar Run— The Night Attack upon Catlett Station— A Ride 
Around Pope's Army. 

All of Saturday, the day after Ashby fell, Jackson and 
Fremont confronted each other near Cross Keys about 
eight miles from Harrisonburg. A terrible gloom rested 
like a pall over the whole Confederate army on account of 
Ashby's death; every soldier — infantryman, artilleryman 
and cavalryman, and even waggoner — went about with sad 
faces; they mourned his loss as a man and soldier; they 
felt his loss to the army and to the South. In fact, at that 
time Ashby was deeper down in the affections of the Valley 
army than Jackson. This is a truth which I think any man 
of that army now living would verify. A little later noth- 
ing could have surpassed the love of Jackson's men for their 
great and invincible leader. 

On Sunday, June 8, Jackson's men were aroused early 
from their rest, and were soon stripping themselves for the 
fray which they could see and feel would quickly begin. Be- 
fore an early breakfast had been swallowed, cannons were 
heard in our rear in the direction of Port Republic. A 
large detachment of cavalry was hurried to the ancient vil- 
lage which was located in the forks of the North and South 
rivers, whose junction at this point formed the Shenandoah 
River. When we reached the vicinity of Port Republic, 
which was about four miles from Cross Keys, we learned 
that Shields, who had been moving up the Luray or Page 
Valley on a parallel line with Jackson as he moved up the 
main or Shenandoah Valley, had reached the south side of 
South River and some of his men had made a dash to seize 



42 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

and hold the bridge which spanned the North River at Port 
Republic, and thus get in the rear of Jackson's army while 
Fremont's army was in his front. But Jackson had guarded 
against such a movement; the evening before he had 
planted artillery on the hills west or north of the bridge 
which commanded the approaches on the opposite side, and 
Shields's dash had been rendered futile and his men driven 
back by shell and canister from our guns on the hills. I 
heard at that time, and have heard many times since, that 
General Jackson was in Port Republic when the Federal 
cavalry and artillery made their dash, and that they reached 
the bridge, planted a piece of artillery at the end of it and 
had Jackson cut off with an unfordable river between him 
and his army; that Jackson rode rapidly to the bridge, or- 
dered the officer in charge of a piece of artillery to move it 
and take another position, and that while the Federal officer, 
supposing he was receiving orders from a superior Federal 
officer, was preparing to move, Jackson put spurs to his 
horse, rushed across the bridge, and saved himself from cap- 
ture. I am not ready to vouch for the truthfulness of the 
story. I think the real facts are that he made a very nar- 
row escape, crossing the bridge not more than a minute, per- 
haps, before the Federal cavalry reached it. 

It was on this Sunday, June 8, 1862, that Jackson met 
Fremont and defeated him in what is known as the Battle 
of Cross Keys, driving him back on Harrisonburg. It was 
on the next day, Monday, June 9, 1862, that he defeated and 
routed Shields in what is known as the Battle of Port Re- 
public. 

It will go down in history, never to be effaced, that with 
Fremont's army, as large as his own, in front of him, and 
Shields's army, as large as his own, in his rear, Jackson de- 
feated Fremont on one day and Shields on the next day, and 
kept them so separated that one could not aid the other, and 
could only look on and see each other most soundly thrashed, 
without the power to send even a squadron to assist. 

On Monday, after Jackson's army had all passed over the 
North River by way of the bridge and his men had crossed 



FROM CROSS KEYS TO CEDAR RUN 43 

the South River by wading or on footways formed by run- 
ning wagons into the stream and laying planks from one to 
the other, and his artillery, caissons and supply wagons by 
fording, the bridge across North River was burned, and this 
prevented the two defeated Federal armies from forming a 
junction, or getting together, or attacking Jackson from 
front and rear. 

Moving into the recesses of the Blue Ridge Mountain on 
the night after the Battle of Lewiston, or Port Republic, 
Jackson rested his army, keeping up demonstrations as if 
he were preparing to move down the Valley again. Devices 
spread the news that reinforcements were reaching him. 
These tactics caused Fremont to retire toward Winchester, 
and for two weeks or more, in fact until Jackson appeared 
below Richmond, he was looking daily for Jackson to ad- 
vance upon him. These devices also had the effect of keep- 
ing McDowell in the Valley. 

Having rested his men, on the night of June 17, Jackson, 
ordering his cavalry to keep up their demonstrations down 
the Valley, moved toward Richmond, and by rail and foot, 
by what was called "the ride-and-tie" way, he arrived in the 
vicinity of the Confederate Capital on the 26th of June, and 
was ready to sweep in on McClellan's rear and flank and 
take part in the bloody Battle of Gaines' Mill on the 27th. 
In three months — from March to June — his army, before 
leaving the Valley, had marched more than five hundred 
miles, fought five pitched battles, and had numerous minor 
engagements. Swinton says : 

He made great captures of stores and prisoners, and by his skilful 
maneuvering of only 15,000 men he succeeded in neutralizing a force 
of 60,000. It is perhaps not too much to say that he saved Richmond, 
for when McClellan, in expectation that McDowell might still be allowed 
to come and join, threw forward his right wing under Porter to Han- 
over Court House on the 26th day of May, the echoes of his cannons 
bore to those in Richmond who knew the situation of the two Union 
armies the knell of the Capital of the Confederacy. 

Jackson's movements and strategy had called McDowell 
westward and held him, and Richmond was relieved of the 
impending danger. 



44 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

I was not a participant in any of the engagements around 
classic Richmond. I was kept in other sections, and as I 
am only recounting things of which I have personal knowl- 
edge, or with which I was in close touch, I shall not speak 
of these engagements. Personally I know nothing of them. 

During the weeks that intervened between Jackson's de- 
parture from the Valley and the Battle of Cedar Run, or 
Slaughter's Mountain, the regiment to which I was attached 
was kept busy in various ways — principally outpost duty 
and scouting in the Valley and Piedmont sections. On the 
7th of August, I think, we joined Jackson in Orange 
County, and the next day we participated in the Battle of 
Cedar Run, resulting in a victory over Pope, "whose head- 
quarters," he said, "were in the saddle," and who had only 
a day or two before wired to Washington that "he had seen 
nothing but the backs of the enemy." A little after dusk, 
and while firing was still going on, I was ordered by Colonel 
Asher W. Harman, colonel of my regiment, to take a squad 
of my men from my company, find General Jackson, and de- 
liver a message to him. I started, and being unfamiliar with 
the country and only directed by the sound of the firing, I 
wended my way with difficulty, but without encountering 
any serious obstacle. As I expected, I found General Jack- 
son at the front and 'where cannons were still roaring. It 
was in front of a piece of woods which some of our artillery 
were engaged in shelling. He was sitting by a gun, eating 
an onion and some hardtack. I saluted him and delivered 
my message. What it was I never knew. He wrote a re- 
ply on his knee while sitting on his horse, and handed it to 
me with the remark, "Lieutenant, you can return to your 
command and deliver this paper to your colonel" ; he then 
rode away. I obeyed his command, and had little trouble 
in reaching Colonel Harman, though he had moved from 
where I had left him. 

The Battle of Cedar Mountain was a hard-fought battle, 
as the Federals contested every inch until after dark, when 
they were forced to retire, leaving us in possession of the 
field and having driven them quite a distance from the place 
they first offered fight. The loss has been put down at 



FROM CROSS KEYS TO CEDAR RUN 45 

about 1,300 on our side and about 2,400 on the Federal 
side, of which about 1,700 were killed and wounded. We 
captured one or two pieces of artillery, several colors, and 
five or six thousand small-arms. 

Jackson telegraphed to Lee, "God has blessed our arms 
with another victory." Lee replied, "I congratulate you 
most heartily on the victory which God has granted you 
over our enemies at Cedar Run." I give at least the sub- 
stance, if not the exact words, of the two messages. 

From this time forward we heard no more from Pope 
that his headquarters were in the saddle or that he had seen 
nothing but the backs of the enemy. He had been taught a 
lesson which he remembered, and gave him a mortal dread 
of Stonewall and his men. 

The cavalry, as the eyes and ears of the army, was kept 
busy watching the enemy, making reconnaissances and in 
almost daily skirmishes. Stuart, who was in command, was 
tireless in his movements, bold and daring. He was almost 
ubiquitous. Wherever he ought to be, there he was almost 
sure to be found. He seemed able to divine and read the 
pent-up thoughts and secret purposes of the enemy, and he 
was ready to thwart every plan or keep his commander-in- 
chief informed as to the intentions of the enemy, even be- 
fore the execution of them had commenced. 

I was in the night attack upon Catlett Station ; it was as 
dark as Erebus ; the rain was coming down in blinding 
sheets. We had surprised the Federal camp, and the result 
was its easy capture with rich stores. Our greatest danger 
was from each other in the darkness and beating rain-storm. 
We lost most of the stores we captured, however, for want 
of means to carry them away, and we were unable to destroy 
all we could not carry away on account of the rain. We cap- 
tured, I think, over 300 prisoners, with many horses, which 
we held. 

To reach Catlett Station we had to pass around Pope's 
army and get directly in his rear, and by this movement 
Stuart displayed that audacity which was one of his charac- 
teristics that gave him fame and made the enemy fear him 
so much. 



CHAPTER VI 

SECOND BATTLE OE BULL RUN 

One of Jackson's Ruses to Fool the Enemy— Pope is Bewildered— The 
Second Battle of Bull Run— As Viewed on the Field and at the 
Cyclorama in Washington— Colloquy Between a Union Woman and 
a "Johnnie Reb"— Battle of Chantilly— Death of Phil Kearny— A 
Tribute to his Memory. 

On the 25th of August Jackson moved from Jeffersonton 
in Culpeper County westward, and his Valley soldiers were 
rejoicing that they were returning to the green pastures and 
vales of milk and honey of their beloved Valley, and would 
see once more their wives and children, fathers, mothers, 
sisters, and sweethearts. But it was simply one of Jack- 
son's tricks — it was a ruse — it was intended to deceive the 
enemy. After getting a short distance beyond Amissville 
on the great highway that crossed the Blue Ridge, Jackson 
suddenly headed his army eastward, and then the hopes of 
the Valley men fell ; but with brave yet sad hearts, sad be- 
cause they were turning their backs upon the land where 
their loved ones dwelt, upon their homes and kindred — yet I 
say with dauntless spirit, they took up the march eastward, 
destined they knew not where, except they were sure Jack- 
son was after the enemy, with steady tread and quick step. 
He marched all that hot August day, and not until near 
night-fall did he go into camp. This was near Salem in 
Fauquier County. The next day, instead of continuing 
eastward, he changed his direction to a southeasterly course, 
and moved along the line of the Manassas Gap Railroad, and 
was soon in Pope's rear and on the line of his communica- 
tion with the Federal Capital. 

Pope was bewildered by these movements. He did not 
know what to expect, what he had to meet, what preparation 
or what disposition to make of his army ; his divisions were 
scattered over a space of twelve miles, from Centerville to 
Bristow ; concluding finally he had only Jackson near him 



SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN 47 

and that he was endeavoring to escape, he ordered the at- 
tack; he had no idea Lee was near at hand, or that Long- 
street was anywhere within striking distance. 

Pope's assaults were unsuccessful, and the 29th of August 
closed without advantage to him — though his men had 
obeyed promptly every command, charged whenever or- 
dered, and behaved with remarkable bravery. In fact both 
armies had behaved most handsomely, and with true Ameri- 
can courage and endurance. The next day, the 30th, came 
the great Second Bull Run Battle, Pope on one side, Lee on 
the other, each commanding in person, resulting as all know 
in a Federal defeat and rout late in the afternoon, after the 
most desperate fighting on both sides. The ground was in 
many places literally covered with the dead and dying of the 
blue and the gray. In front of where Hood with his Tex- 
ans fought, the New York Zouaves lay in appalling num- 
bers, stark in death, their red breeches making the space 
more conspicuous than any other spot on the renowned field. 
They were so thick that frequently for rods you could easily 
have walked upon their dead and dying bodies. 

Some years ago a Cyclorama of this battle as it was wag- 
ing about five o'clock in the afternoon was on exhibition in 
Washington, and I made one of several parties of Federal 
and Confederate participants who stood before it and in low 
tones, in the presence of the scene of blood, carnage, and 
death, and in kindly spirit, fought the battle over. On one 
of these occasions I met a party of ladies and gentlemen 
from Virginia, and knowing that I had been in the battle 
they requested me to tell them all I could about it. I said : 
"My friends, it is true I was in this battle and in many of 
the thickest and deadliest places of it, but I cannot tell you 
much about it of my own knowledge, for when I was en- 
gaged in a battle I had as much to do in my own front and 
about me as I could well do, and had little knowledge of 
what was taking place on other parts of the field. I will tell 
you what I saw, and know, and then I will tell you, as far 



48 FORTY YEARS oe active service 

as I can after so many years, what I heard around the camp- 
fires or on the march, directly after it closed, and what I have 
read since. 

"I have seen some soldiers who could tell you with great 
minuteness every movement, every charge, every advance, 
every retreat, and every repulse; in a word, soldiers who 
were ubiquitous, or had eyes everywhere and had personal 
knowledge of everything that occurred in an all-day fight. 
But I am not one of these remarkable fellows." 

The landscape and topography of the country before me, 
on canvas so hung as to magnify the entire scene, were 
familiar, so I gave them as quickly and quietly as possible 
all I knew personally and then all I had heard and read, and 
bidding them good-by, turned to join my party of friends, 
but they had gone. Just then a lady who had come in 
turned to an old fellow with gray hair and beard, who was 
looking intently in the direction of the railroad cut in which 
Jackson's men were posted, and which the Federals were 
charging with great spirit and gallantry, and said : "Ex- 
cuse me for disturbing you, sir. Were you in this battle?" 
"Yes, ma'am, I was in it." "Well, sir, I was a Union 
woman; I suppose you were in the Union army." "No, 
ma'am, I was what you would call a 'Johnny Reb' ; I 
was in the rebel army from start to finish, and was in this 
battle under Lee, and hearing of this picture I thought I 
would come and see it." "Well, sir, that's all right. I have 
no feelings against you rebels now ; we whipped you and 
we are all united again in the Providence of God, and I 
hope forever." The old fellow studied a moment and said : 
"You must pardon me, ma'am, but I don't think God had 
much to do with this matter. Your people whipped us be- 
cause you had five times as many men as we had, and all the 
money and rations you wanted, and I don't think I ever 
heard that God gave one half-starved man the strength to 
whip five fully-fed men. If he ever did, the five must have 
been mighty ornery men." 

The lady made no reply to this thrust, but after a pause 
she said: "This must have been a terrible battle!" "Yes, 



SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN 49 

ma'am, it was just awful ; there was a heap of men killed 
and a heap of blood spilt." "I thought, sir, this was a Con- 
federate victory, and our men retreated." ''Well, ma'am, 
we did win, and the Union army did retreat." "It don't 
look now like our men were going to retreat; they are 
standing up to it mighty well," she said. He replied : 
"You came a little too early ; it is only five o'clock ; you 
wait until about six o'clock, and you will see your men git 
up and git and make tracks as fast as greyhounds toward 
Washington." 

This ended the conversation, and the lady, bowing very 
graciously to the old "Confed," walked to another part of 
the platform. I was so much interested in the conversation 
that I kept within easy earshot of it all, and as soon as I 
could get an opportunity I introduced myself to the old sol- 
dier and asked him his name. He gave his name, which 
I am sorry to say I cannot recall, and told me that he was 
from North Carolina. I have given the conversation almost 
literally. 

This cyclorama was so interesting to me that I wanted 
Mrs. O'Ferrall to see it. She, however, assured me she 
had no desire to witness even on canvass the horrors of a bat- 
tle-field. Still I persisted, and to my regret afterwards she 
visited it with me. The approach was through a long, 
gloomy hall, and up steps to the platform around which the 
canvas was stretched, the scene bursting suddenly upon you 
as you reached the top step. 

My wife was just ahead of me, and when she caught 
sight of the picture it was so realistic that it startled her 
and she would have fallen back down the steps if I had 
not caught her. However, she summoned her courage and 
walked upon the platform ; but in a few minutes she said the 
scene was making her sick, and we took our departure. The 
dead and dying men, the wounded being carried from the 
field, the turmoil and excitement, the flashing of the guns 
and the bursting of shells were so graphically portrayed that 
the picture was too much for her nerves, and it was weeks 
before she recovered from the impressions that short visit 
4 



50 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

and the view of the Second Battle of Bull Run had made 
upon her. 

On September I the engagement of Chantilly occurred, 
in which the Federal advance under Reno was repulsed. It 
took place in a driving rain, wetting the ammunition, and 
causing Jackson to order the use of the bayonet, and the 
Federals were driven back until darkness settled around 
the contending forces. Reno, retreating, joined the main 
body of Pope's army, which never stopped until it was with- 
in the defenses of the Federal Capital. It was at Chan- 
tilly that the brave and heroic General Phil Kearny, of the 
Federal Army, was killed. He had distinguished himself 
and had been brevetted for gallantry at Contreras and Cher- 
ubusco in the war with Mexico. At Williamsburg, Seven 
Pines, and Frazier's Farm his bearing was so superb that 
he was promoted from a brigadier to a major-general. At 
Chantilly he had ridden forward on his line to reconnoitre, 
and was shot by a Confederate soldier with whom he acci- 
dentally met away from his command, and perhaps strag- 
gling or without leave. 

He was a thorough soldier and accomplished gentleman, 
and I was told by General Cadmus Wilcox, among the 
South's bravest and best, that in Kearny's soldier life he 
was never guilty of an act that would not bear the closest 
scrutiny. If he was destined to fall, he deserved a more 
glorious death. I think his body, sword and pistols and 
personal effects were, by order of General Jackson, sent 
through the lines to be delivered to his widow. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE ADVANCE INTO MARYLAND. 

Our Cavalry Crosses the Potomac at White's Ford— I Get a Broken 
Arm in a Cavalry Skirmish near Poolesville — Saved from Certain 
Death by Gallant Sergeant- Major J. H. H. Figgatt— General Ashby's 
Successors— Gen. William E. Jones — A Brave Federal Deserter- 
Big and Gallant Colonel Funsten. 

The advance into Maryland by Lee's army came after 
Bull Run and Chantilly. It was undertaken, as I have un- 
derstood, and as I think history records, by General Lee 
with grave doubts of success. He had absolute confidence 
in the fighting qualities of his men, but he did not think his 
army was properly equipped and prepared for an invasion 
of the enemy's country. His horses were feeble; his men 
were poorly clad, and in many instances shoeless. Yet he 
did not think his army could afford to be idle, and he re- 
garded conditions as favorable except in the particulars 
named. 

On September 5 our infantry and artillery, with bands 
playing and the men singing "Maryland, My Maryland," 
and with wild delight, commenced crossing the Potomac at 
Edward's Ferry, where the river was broad but shallow. It 
was here Evans, or as many think, Hunton, had achieved 
victory at the Battle of Ball's Bluff, and where it is said 
Wayne had crossed his Pennsylvanians in marching to 
Yorktown in 1781. 

The cavalry forded at White's Ford late on Saturday 
evening and moved to Poolesville and camped; the next 
day they moved to Urbana; on Monday they returned to 
the vicinity of Poolesville, where they met the advance 
cavalry of the Federal army moving to meet Lee's army. In 
the encounter with this cavalry I was disabled in my right 
arm by a sabre-stroke; it was broken two or three inches 
above the wrist joint, and but for the timely assistance of 
Sergeant-Major J. H. H. Figgatt, of my regiment, I would 



52 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

have been cut down. A stalwart Federal sergeant, into 
whose face I had thrust my pistol and pulled the trigger 
with only the result of an exploded cap. had given me the 
blow, and while I was dodging his other strokes and en- 
deavoring to get away from him, Figgatt dashed up, and 
taking the fellow off my hands, with a well-directed blow 
about the head or neck knocked him from his saddle. I 
have always believed that Figgatt saved my life, for I had 
not thought of surrendering, and the fellow, apparently 
maddened by the narrow escape he had made from death by 
the failure of my pistol to fire, seemed determined to finish 
me. 

Figgatt was as fine a soldier as the war produced. He 
was a magnificent specimen of athletic manhood, a splendid 
horseman, brave as the bravest, and always cool. He was 
subsequently promoted for gallantry. From the time of 
which I speak until his death, about 1896, we were fast 
friends, and when he died at his home in his native town 
of Fincastle I attended his funeral, and the immense turn- 
out of the people and the deep emotion that was displayed 
attested unmistakably the love his people bore him. His 
widow touched me deeply when she told me that only a 
little while before he breathed his last he said, "Tell O'Fer- 
rall all is well." He was a devout Christian, and all can 
understand what he meant. As I was leaving the house after 
he had been laid to rest in the Methodist Church-yard, his 
widow gave me one of the spurs he wore on the day he 
rushed to rescue me. I have it, and prize it among the 
things I prize most. 

The wound in my arm was too severe for me to continue 
with my command, and I returned to my war home, New 
Market, and did not rejoin the army until it had recrossed 
the Potomac after Antietam, and then I had no use of my 
arm, and had to carry it in a sling ; but it was not long be- 
fore I was all right again and fully ready for duty. 

I shall say nothing about Antietam, as I was not, on ac- 
count of my wound, in that battle. 

The immediate successor of General Ashby, as com- 



the; advance into Maryland 53 

mander of the Ashby brigade, was General Beverly H. 
Robertson, but he was shortly succeeded by General William 
E. Jones. During- the winter of 1862-63 this brigade 
then called Jones's brigade, had quarters in the Shenan- 
doah Valley in the Mount Jackson and Edenburg sections. 
Its pickets held an advanced line down the Valley about 
Fisher's Hill. 

General Jones was a superior brigade commander; he 
took the best care of his men and shared their hardships 
and discomforts; he was alert, untiring, and as a fighter 
he was not excelled by any officer in the army. He was a 
West Pointer, but resigned and returned to his native county 
of Washington, Virginia, several years prior to secession, 
and was engaged in farming when Virginia called for 
troops. He organized a company, the Washington 
Mounted Rifles, and was assigned to the First Virginia 
Regiment of Cavalry and took part in the First Battle of 
Manassas, where he displayed such qualities as to attract 
attention and led to his promotion to the colonelcy of the 
regiment when Stuart received a brigadier's wreath upon 
his collar. 

Jones's brigade wintered very comfortably in their 
quarters in the Mount Jackson and Edenburg neighbor- 
hoods, and it was active in picketing, scouting, and guard- 
ing the Shenandoah Valley and the section extending west- 
ward as far as Moorefield in Hardy County. During the 
winter I received an occasional letter from my mother or 
some friend at my home, near the Potomac, in Morgan 
County. In one of these letters I was told that a sergeant 
of a Pennsylvania regiment stationed at my home, by the 
name of Flynn, intended to desert, come South and report 
to me. The writer further stated that I could trust him. 
I paid little attention to the matter, and it had almost passed 
out of my memory, when on a cold and rainy night, about 
the middle of February, as I was sitting in my Sibley tent 
enjoying a warm fire and listening to the pattering of the 
rain upon the sides of the tent, a sergeant of my regiment 
threw up the "fly" and entered and just behind him came a 



54 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

tall man in a Federal uniform with sergeant's chevrons on 
his sleeves. The Confederate sergeant told me that the 
man had been brought in by our pickets; that he said he 
was a Federal deserter and had a letter to me, and Colonel 
Harman had directed him to bring him to me. Instantly I 
recalled my friend's letter, and I said to the man, who was 
standing, cap in hand, towering far above all present, "Are 
you Sergeant Flynn?" He replied: "Yes, sir, I am Ser- 
geant Flynn. I have a letter for you, Captain." He handed 
me a letter ; it was from my friend at my old home. I read 
it, and again I was told I could trust Flynn. That night he 
spent in my tent, and it was late before we went to sleep. 
He brought me much news from home. 

The next morning Colonel Harman thought it would be 
well for me to take the fellow to General Jones's headquar- 
ters, which were at Edenburg, five miles down the Valley. 
Mounting him on one of my horses, we rode to the quar- 
ters of the brigade commander. General Jones, after I had 
told him all I knew about Flynn, said to him, "Why did you 
desert?" Flynn replied that he had been converted to 
Southern views by some Southern women ; that he believed 
the South was right and he wanted to fight for her. The 
General then asked him what Federal troops were in the 
lower Valley and where they were stationed. Flynn de- 
clined to tell, saying: "General, I must bear the odium of 
being a deserter. I must take the chances of being captured 
and hung. I am willing to bear this odium and take these 
chances for the sake of my convictions, but I cannot give 
you information which I obtained only as a Federal sol- 
dier." General Jones looked at him intently for some sec- 
onds, and then turning to me he said : "Well, this man is 
the strangest deserter I ever saw. Have you faith in him ?" 
I replied : "I have assurances of his sincerity which I can- 
not disregard. I have the word of as true a Southerner as 
lives and I can trust him, and I will trust him if you will 
allow me. I will put him on the rolls of my own company." 
He said. "All risrht" ; and then in a low tone, "vou had bet- 
ter watch him." 

We were about ready to mount to return to camp, when 



THE ADVANCE INTO MARYLAND 55 

a courier on a foaming steed announced that a body of Fed- 
eral cavalry had driven in our pickets and were advancing 
rapidly up the pike. The General ordered the Eleventh 
Regiment, under Colonel Oliver R. Funsten, which was en- 
camped nearby, to move at once to meet the Federal ad- 
vance. 

He dispatched one of his aids to order the Seventh Regi- 
ment, which was farther off, to move as quickly and rapidly 
as possible to the support of the Eleventh, and then, as he 
was preparing to go himself, I asked him if I could not go 
with him. He said, "Yes, but what will you do with your 
Yankee?" I replied, "I will take him with me and test 
him." He said, "Very well, do as you choose." 

I turned to Flynn, and said, "I am going into this fight, 
and I shall take you with me." He replied, "I am delighted, 
but I ought to have a gray uniform." I secured a gray 
overcoat for him and we started, joining the Eleventh Regi- 
ment as it filed out into the pike and started at a trot to meet 
and engage the enemy. We encountered the Thirteenth 
Pennsylvania Cavalry at Toms Brook, a hamlet about five 
miles below or north of Woodstock. As soon as the enemy 
was sighted Colonel Funsten ordered the charge, leading it 
in person. The enemy was routed, and from there to beyond 
Middletown, a distance of more than twelve miles, we kept 
them on the run, making captures of men and horses and 
sending them to the rear. At a single point only. Cedar 
Creek, did the Pennsylvanians make any effort to rally. 
There they were reinforced by a part of the First New York 
Cavalry, but just at this moment almost our Seventh Vir- 
ginia Cavalry came up, and in the shortest time we had them 
on the run again. For a mile or two Flynn was always 
near me; then in the excitement of the chase I foreot all 
about him, and when suddenly I thought of him and looked 
about for him he was not to be seen. After the chase, which 
lasted until night-fall, our regiments turned about, and at 
midnight, I think, I reached my camp. The next morning 
I inquired for Flynn, but he was not to be found. As the 
morning wore away I became uneasy and began to feel that 



56 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

I had been outrageously duped, and was minus a horse. But 
about the middle of the afternoon, much to my delight, the 
fellow came, hobbling into camp leading his horse, which 
was lame. He explained to me that in the chase, near Stras- 
burg, his horse had cast a shoe and become lame and he 
could go no farther, and he had been compelled to walk and 
lead his horse all the way back. He was covered from head 
to foot with mud. He said he had captured and disarmed 
many a Federal cavalryman, and he was loaded down with 
pistols, carbines, and sabres, which bore testimony to the 
truth of his statement. I was satisfied that he was true ; he 
had been tested, and I did not hesitate to enroll him in my 
company, and he proved to be a most excellent soldier; he 
was trusted anywhere and became a favorite in the regiment. 
I have forgotten to say that he was a young Irishman, edu- 
cated, and claimed to have aristocratic blood in his veins. 
His final end, which I shall notice later, was heroically 
tragic. 

Many of the Eleventh Pennsylvania did not stop running 
until they reached Winchester. Colonel Funsten, of the 
Eleventh Virginia, was an enormous man and he rode an 
enormous horse, — it was necessary, — and he carried a long, 
huge sabre. This story was told of him : 

As one of the demoralized cavalrymen entered Winches- 
ter, without hat and his horse panting for breath, he was 
asked what was the matter with him. He replied : 
"What's the matter? Why, we met a lot of rebel cavalry 
up the Valley. At the head of them was a colonel as big 
as the side of a house, and he rode a horse according, and 
he carried a sabre as big and long as a saw-log, and he just 
swept the pike from side to side, as he came thundering 
down it." This story flew from camp to camp. 

Colonel Funsten was a superb soldier and a Virginian of 
the first water. His men loved him, and took great pride 
in speaking of him as "our big Colonel." He lived through 
the war, and exemplified in his whole life the characteristics 
of the highest manhood and citizenship. He died lamented 
by his old followers, a host of friends, and the State he had 
served and honored so well. 



CHAPTER VIII 
jones's west Virginia raid. 

The Composition of Jones's Force — His Destination a Secret — The 
First Obstacle Encountered — Our Condition on Reaching Weston— 
I Buy a New Horse — Am Beaten in a Horse-Race by my Old One — 
Incidents on Our Raid — An Encounter at Fairmount — Headed for 
Home — We Learn of Jackson's Death. 

In the early part of April, 1863, General W. E. Jones or- 
dered ten days' rations of jerked beef and hard tack to be 
issued to his brigade, and with our haversacks filled, the 
brigade consisting of the Seventh, Eleventh, and Twelfth 
regiments, White's battalion, the Maryland battalion, and 
Witcher's battalion, we left our winter quarters, without 
wagons or artillery, and moved on through Brock's Gap in 
the North Mountain; thence to Moorefield; thence to Pe- 
tersburg, in Grant County, where we found the South 
Branch of the Potomac greatly swollen by recent rains. 
Whither we were going or what object General Jones had 
in view, no officer below a colonel, and surely no private sol- 
dier, had the slightest conception. 

Though the waters of the South Branch were swift and 
the fording exceedingly hazardous, we were ordered to 
cross, and regiment after regiment and battalion after bat- 
talion plunged into the angry and dangerous torrent, and 
in a few hours we were all safely across, with the exception 
of three or four poor fellows who had been swept down the 
stream and drowned. 

We were all of course as wet as rats, but we had kept our 
powder dry — our cartridge boxes and pistols were carried 
above our heads as our horses swam from bank to bank. 
We moved on, and as the sun was ready to set, the Seventh 
Regiment, under Colonel Richard H. Dulaney, which was in 
front of the Maryland battalion directly behind it, encoun- 
tered quite an obstacle. At the entrance to a pass in the 
mountain, through which the turnpike ran, a log church and 



58 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

a log school-house stood — the church on one side and the 
school-house on the other side of the road. Stationed in 
them were an Indiana company and a West Virginia com- 
pany. Colonel Dulaney leading his regiment, dashed 
through between the buildings to get beyond them and pre- 
vent the escape of the two companies. As the regiment 
charged through it was fired upon at close range from the 
houses, and Colonel Dulaney and a number of his followers 
were wounded. 

These two companies, numbering perhaps 150 men, re- 
fusing to surrender, held our entire brigade of 3,500 men 
off for two or more hours, and until a squad from the Mary- 
land battalion, under the cover of night, charged the build- 
ings and set them on fire — then, and not till then, did these 
Indianians and West Virginians run up the white flag and 
surrender; not until they were confronted with the propo- 
sition, "throw up or burn up." Our loss was not less than 
thirty, killed and wounded. The gallant Dulaney had his 
arm, right, I think, shattered. That night we encamped 
in the mountain gorge. 

We were still mystified as to what the movement meant, 
but to abbreviate my story I will state now it culminated in 
what has ever since been known as "Jones's West Virginia 
Raid," striking Morgantown, Weston, Bridgeport, Rath- 
lx>ne City or Oil Town, Fairmount, Summers Court House 
and other points, returning by way of Lewisburg and White 
Sulphur Springs to Staunton, occupying just thirty-two 
days. 

When Jones's brigade reached Weston on this raid the 
men were in wretched condition generally in the way of 
clothing and in other respects which an old soldier can read- 
ily conjecture. However, we were able to secure plenty of 
soap, and a river was at hand. We were also fortunate in 
obtaining a large quantity of calico of all shades and fig- 
ures, and the fingers of many a fair hand were soon busy 
making the calico up into undergarments. How many they 
made I could not form the slightest idea, but enough to 
supply those who needed them the most and to send us away 



jones's west Virginia raid 59 

feeling far better and more respectable than when we 
reached the town. Soap and water and clean clothes had a 
most wonderful effect, and all of us felt that John Wesley 
was right when he declared that "cleanliness is, indeed, next 
to godliness." 

As we were returning from our West Virginia raid, my 
horse, a fine dark bay, broke down at Lewisburg, and could 
carry me no farther. He had cost me $800 a few weeks 
before. I had therefore to supply myself with a fresh 
mount, so I purchased from Mr. "Abe" Bright a good-look- 
ing sorrel, paying $1,000 for him, and trading my disabled 
horse in at $300 as part payment. 

The sorrel turned out to be a superb animal, full of met- 
tle, cool and brave, and as swift as an arrow from a tightly- 
drawn bow. I was mounted on him at Upperville when my 
lung was pierced by a carbine bullet. I fell from him, but 
he never budged, and stood over me, while I laid on the 
ground, and was led off by the soldiers who carried me from 
the field. The attachment of a cavalryman for his horse, 
particularly if he had proved to be true and faithful and 
had carried his rider out of tight and dangerous places, be- 
came very great; and my fondness for the brave animal 
that with bullets whizzing thick as hail about him would not 
desert me when wounded, was almost as tender as if he had 
been a friend of human flesh and blood. But in spite of my 
fondness for him, I was compelled to part with him when I 
had recovered sufficiently to return to the service ; by some 
mishap he had become lame and I feared permanently, so 
with many regrets I traded him for a dapple gray, paying 
considerable boot-money. 

Horse-racing was the supreme sport of cavalrymen. I 
was particularly fond of it. An old gentleman who was a 
great horse-racer came to my tent in the early spring of 1864 
and asked me if I had anything I would like to race for a 
small sum ; that he had heard I had a gray that was fast. 
I replied that I would give him a tilt for half a mile, and 
on his saying all right, the stakes were posted. 

A track was soon found and the regiment gathered to see 



60 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

the race. My gray, with his rider up, was soon on the 
ground; directly the old gentleman rode into the field, 
mounted, to my surprise and chagrin, upon the sorrel I had 
ridden at Upperville and had traded for the gray. I knew 
I was beaten, for while my gray was regarded as fast, I was 
satisfied the sorrel was faster, and had the wind of a fox- 
hound. The result was as I had mentally predicted — I lost 
the race and the old gentleman rode away with his pockets 
well filled with his winnings, for many of my regiment had 
backed their judgment with their money that the gray would 
win, and the old gentleman, whose name was Harmison, 
had taken every bet that was offered him. 

Horse-racing, I have said, was the principal sport of cav- 
alrymen when lying in winter quarters or resting for a few 
days, and I have known whole companies to draw their pay 
one day and lose all of it the next day in backing some par- 
ticular horse that had won for them in other races. 

Several things occurred in Jones's raid which I will men- 
tion. At Oil Town we destroyed thousands of barrels of 
crude oil, which we found in immense tanks as it had been 
pumped from the wells. These tanks were located for 
quite a distance up a depression in the hills or mountains. 
Down this depression ran a stream which emptied into the 
Little Kanawha River a few hundred yards below. We set 
the tanks on fire and the burning fluid ran out into this 
stream and was floated by it into the river, and that night 
for miles the country was lit up by the burning oil, present- 
ing a picture I shall never forget. The loss to the operators 
must have been heavy, for besides the loss of the oil, we 
greatly damaged the wells and machinery. Some may say 
this was inexcusable and wanton destruction of private 
property. But this would hardly be a just criticism, as the 
oil was being bought by the United States Government, and 
the destruction was similar to the destruction of army sup- 
plies, which is always regarded as legitimate in war. 

On this expedition and with my company and under my 
command was the Yankee sergeant of whom I have spoken. 
Always at his post, faithful to every duty, ever ready to 



jones's west Virginia raid 6i 

perform any service and encounter any danger, he was with 
us until we arrived in the vicinity of the town of Union; 
there his horse broke clown and he was compelled to abandon 
him. 

With others, who like him were compelled to leave their 
horses and trudge along on foot with their saddles, bridles, 
and blankets on their backs, he was making his way cheer- 
fully, when he discovered some horses in a field perhaps a 
quarter of a mile from the road. Calling the attention of his 
dismounted comrades to them, he and two others started 
toward the horses. This was the last that we ever saw 
of him. The sergeant and his comrades were fired upon by 
citizens, and he and one of the others were mortally 
wounded and carried off, but not, as stated by his comrade 
who escaped, until he had emptied his carbine and every 
chamber of his revolver. 

I took him and trusted him upon the faith of the assur- 
ance that my friend, whose letter he handed me that gloomy 
and dismal February night in my tent at Mount Jackson, 
had given me, and every act of his, from the day he re- 
turned to camp foot-sore and leading his lame horse down 
to the moment of his unfortunate death, was confirmation 
strong of the honesty of his convictions and the sincerity 
of his purposes. He was a deserter, and no doubt opposite 
his name on the muster rolls at Washington is written the 
word "deserted," and if he had ever been captured alive his 
fate would have been that of a deserter, yet I shall always 
believe he deserted because he was fisrhtin«- in what he re- 
garded as an unjust cause against what he believed to be 
a righteous cause. I can imagine no other motive. 

When our brigade reached Fairmount we found a force 
of Federal infantry. There I wounded and took prisoner 
a young lieutenant about my own age. A ball from my 
pistol hit him in his leg, inflicting a painful but not a serious 
injury. As he fell I approached him, and he made himself 
known to me as a member of a secret order to which I be- 
longed. I had him carried to a house in Fairmount, now 
known as Skinner's Tavern, and made him as comfortable 



62 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

as possible. While talking with him I found he had been 
stationed at my home and had seen my mother and sisters. 
I expressed my anxiety about them. He replied, "Captain 
as soon as I can travel I will go and see your mother and 
sisters and if they need anything they shall have it." I 
thanked him, and bidding him good-by, and expressing the 
hope that his wound would not trouble him much, I left 
him. He kept his word and promise. 

At Fairmount we headed for our Confederacy — for old 
Virginia, the Valley so dear to all our hearts. When we 
arrived at Lewisburg we heard of the death of Stonewall 
Jackson. For more than three weeks we had been cut off 
absolutely from news. We had no conception of the mo- 
mentous events that had been taking place in eastern Vir- 
ginia. Jackson's death cast the deepest gloom over the bri- 
gade. All hoped and prayed that it was a false report, and 
yet the information seemed to be so authentic as to leave no 
doubt of its truth. From Lewisburg we proceeded toward 
Staunton as rapidly as the jaded condition of our horses 
would permit. We were not many miles on the way before 
the last lingering hope vanished that Jackson was not dead, 
for we were then in a section where there was nothing but 
Southern sentiment and we found mourning over the death 
of the spotless hero and almost unmatched leader, in every 
face and home. 

At Staunton we obtained of course all the particulars of 
Stonewall's death, and learned of the desperate fighting and 
terrible carnage that had taken place while Jones's brigade 
had been in the recesses of the West Virginia mountains 
away from telegraphs and all lines of communication. We 
knew nothing of Chancellorsville and the Wilderness, ex- 
cept the little information we had picked up on our way 
from Lewisburg. 

We had all lost friends, and many of them, in the fierce 
engagements in the east, during our month's raid, but the 
experience of more than two years had, strange to say, ac- 
customed and hardened us to such things. It was the fate 
of war. In peace we lose friends and we mourn for them 



jones's west Virginia raid 63 

and think of them and long for them for months; but in 
war it is different. Comrades are constantly dropping out 
of the ranks, constantly passing over the river; but there 
is such a whirl, events crowd upon each other so fast and the 
fallen are so numerous, that a fresh wound to our feelings 
to-day becomes an old wound to-morrow; the sorrow of 
to-day is supplanted by the sorrow of to-morrow. Yet the 
soldier in war is every day a mourner, and while he may be 
gay and apparently happy, it is often an effort to drive away 
misery and drown sorrow. I have seen a comrade weeping- 
while preparing to attend a ball, and yet be among the gay- 
est of the gay in the mazes of the dance. I have seen a com- 
rade bowed one hour in the deepest distress, and the next 
hour engage in a horse-race, dance a jig, or sing a funny 
camp song with exceeding gusto. It was to drive away 
grief, make him forget his sorrow, if only for a brief period. 



CHAPTER IX 

BATTLE OF BRANDY STATION. 

The Most Famous Cavalry Engagement of the war — Stuart's System 
of "Grand Guard" — Ordered Forward to Beverly's Ford — See- 
Sawing with the Enemy for Hours — A Charge and Clash — A Drawn 
Battle — I Wound a Federal Officer and the Peculiar Outcome — A 
Case of Robbery Investigated and Restitution Effected. 

As soon as our brigade could rest and recruit its horses 
in the clover and blue-grass fields of Augusta it joined the 
cavalry corps under Stuart in the Piedmont section, and we 
had plenty to do, and had many skirmishes, leading up to 
the sanguinary field of Brandy Station on June 9, 1863. 
This was perhaps the most famous almost strictly cavalry 
engagement of the war. It was cavalry against cavalry — 
a carbine, pistol, and sabre combat, with only a little artillery 
firing in the early morning and an occasional cannon roar 
during the day. 

On the day before, our cavalry corps had been reviewed 
by General Lee; the day was ideal and the ground as suit- 
able as could have been desired. The appearance of General 
Lee as he rode in review with General Stuart, with Stuart's 
black plume waving like the white plume of Henry of Na- 
varre, aroused the enthusiasm of the corps to the highest 
pitch, and prepared them for the bloody struggle of the next 
day, though we had no idea that it was to occur; yet at 
that time we were ready for anything, not knowing when 
we laid down at night what the breaking of the next morn- 
ing's dawn would bring. 

General Stuart had adopted a system of having a regi- 
ment from each brigade on what was termed "grand guard" 
while lying in camp; that is, the horses were kept saddled 
and bridled and the men by them, day and night, so that the 
regiment could move at a moment's notice in case of an 
emergency. 

On the evening of the review, June 8, my regiment, 



BATTLE OF BRANDY STATION 65 

the Twelfth, under Colonel Harman, its colonel, went on 
grand guard, and we all laid down that night by our sad- 
dled and bridled horses, with our boots on, and sabres and 
pistols buckled around us and our carbines by our sides, 
with nothing to do in case we were called up but to strap our 
blankets on our saddles, mount our horses, and fall into line. 
On the ninth, before the sun had risen high enough to 
reflect its rays upon our camp, the sound of a cannon was 
heard in our front in the direction of Beverly's Ford on the 
Rappahannock. Instantly our regimental bugle sounded 
the call to mount; the men sprang out of their blankets, 
and I am sure in less than ten minutes the regiment was in 
line awaiting orders. A fellow in the line remarked that 
such an early rising was not good for a man's liver, but we 
would knock the livers out of the disturbers of our rest as 
soon as we could get at them. We did not have to wait 
long for our orders. They came to us by a courier from 
General Jones mounted on a fleet-footed thoroughbred, and 
they were to quickly move to the front, which meant to 
Beverly's Ford. The enemy's cavalry had crossed the Rap- 
pahannock during the preceding night and were advancing. 
Colonel Harman led his regiment in a trot and gallop until 
he discovered the enemy's cavalry in a piece of woods be- 
yond an open and clear field three or four hundred yards in 
front. He ordered me to deploy my squadron, the first, 
Company B (Lieutenant Rouss commanding) and Company 
I, my company, and advance upon the woods, telling me 
he would support me with the remaining four squadrons of 
the regiment. I obeyed his command and moved my skir- 
mish line over the open space. The enemy made no dem- 
onstration until my line was almost within the edge of the 
woods, when they let drive a galling fire, checking my ad- 
vance, killing and wounding several of my men and horses. 
At the same time they rushed upon us as thick as angry bees 
from a hive when stirred. But Colonel Harman "was up 
with the other four squadrons of the Twelfth, and the fight 
became close, fast and furious; but being in far greater 
numbers they drove us back to a hill in the field, where rein- 
5 



66 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

forcements came to us, and we drove them back to the cover 
of the woods. Several times was this repeated. We would 
drive them into the woods and then they would rally and 
drive us to the hill. For hours this see-sawing was kept 
up. Finally, after we had driven them the fourth or fifth 
time to their rallying point, they showed no disposition to 
charge again, and we fell back to the hill. As may well be 
imagined, these various charges and counter-charges were 
not without heavy cost to both sides, and no decided advan- 
tage, so far as we could see, had been gained by either. 
Lieutenant Randolph was severely wounded — a fearless of- 
ficer. We held our line on the hill for some time, how long 
I could hardly approximate — I think, however, as late in the 
evening as three or four o'clock. 

While we were fighting, and in fact while we were sitting 
on our horses on the hill waiting, fighting was going on to 
the right and left of us. But the enemy had disappeared 
from our front. Suddenly we were ordered to the rear, and 
the speed at which our colonel was leading us satisfied me 
that we were badly needed somewhere, but where I did not 
know or have the slightest conception. When we had gone 
some distance we saw a Confederate officer sitting on his 
horse by a piece of artillery on elevated ground, waving us 
on; we quickened our already rapid pace and soon reached 
him. I was riding at the head of my squadron, the first, 
which was the head of the regiment, with the colonel. The 
officer pointed out to us two regiments of cavalry drawn up 
in columns of squadrons, evidently waiting for us ; they had 
no doubt seen us approaching from some point, as the coun- 
try was entirely open and unobstructed. Forming squadron 
front we charged; the Federal cavalry also charged. The 
two forces met; sabres flashed, crossed and clashed, pistols 
rang. In a few minutes White's battalion, led by its daunt- 
less and intrepid commander, Colonel E. V. White, — who 
is still living, an honored and esteemed citizen of Leesburg, 
— came with a rush, and the result was the Federal force 
sullenly withdrew, leaving us in charge of the field. 



BATTLE OF BRANDY STATION 6j 

It was a drawn battle — neither had a victory, neither 
could claim any decided advantage. Both sides had won tro- 
phies for gallantry and courage; each had proved itself 
worthy of the other's steel. In this fight Colonel Harman 
of my regiment was wounded and captured. He was as 
courageous as any man who wielded a Southern sabre; his 
favorite and almost only command, in the presence of the 
enemy, was "charge." 

While the battle was raging the hottest I wounded a Fed- 
eral officer who was leading his men in magnificent style. 
He fell from his horse, and being very close to me, in fall- 
ing he caught me by the coat and clinging to it came very 
near pulling me from my saddle. I tried to break his hold 
and get rid of him, but he held my coat in his grasp as if it 
were in a vise; finally I tapped him on the head with the 
butt of my pistol and he dropped to the ground. That night 
I heard in camp that a certain member of my company had 
a fine gold watch which he had taken from the pocket of a 
dead Federal cavalryman after the battle. 

I had never known an instance of the robbery of a pris- 
oner, wounded or not, by any member of my company, and 
if I had ever heard of such conduct by any man under my 
command, I would have gone to the length of my tether in 
punishing him. The idea of taking from the dead always 
grated upon my feelings, yet I was ready to excuse the sol- 
dier who did it, rather than bury the effects with the dead. 
I was not therefore disposed to disturb my man who had 
taken this watch from a dead body. 

The Confederate wounded and the Federal wounded who 
had been left on the field were carried to Brandy Station, 
where there were some large buildings built of plank, for the 
storage of the tithes of grain and produce gathered under 
an act of the Confederate Congress. On the morning of 
the ioth I rode to the Station to look after the wounded of 
my own squadron. After I had seen them and done all 
that I could for their comfort, and was about to leave the 
hospital, an attendant told me that a wounded Federal officer 
at the other end of the building wanted to see me. Going 



68 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

with the attendant, he conducted me to a cot of a soldier 
who had a bandage around his head. As I approached him 
he raised himself slightly on his elbow and said, "I under- 
stand you are the man who shot me yesterday, and then 
after wounding and disabling me, hit me on the head with 
your pistol." 

I answered, "Yes, I reckon I am the man." To which 
he replied, "Well, I just wanted to tell you that the shooting 
was all right, but a brave man would not have hit me as 
you did, after I was helpless." I said : "I only struck you 
when I failed to break your grip on my coat. I had to get 
away from you or be killed or captured ; with you hanging 
to me I was helpless to defend or take care of myself, and as 
it was I barely made my escape. You ought to be thankful 
that I did not shoot you again. I am sorry I had to hit you. 
Did I hurt you much? I hope not, either by my shot or 
blow." He could not see it as I saw it, still insisting that 
a brave man would not have hit him, and finding that he 
was in an angry mood and not inclined to tell me anything 
about the extent of his injury, I turned to leave, when he 
said, "You not only treated me as you did, but one of your 
men robbed me." I said, "You say that one of my men 
robbed you." He said, "I do not know that it was one of 
your men, but it was a rebel cavalryman ; he took my pocket 
book and my watch." Instantly it occurred to me that it 
was really one of my men who was the guilty party. I 
asked him to describe his watch and tell me how much 
money had been taken from him. He described the watch, 
and then pausing he said, "I am not sure he took my pocket- 
book — I was so weak and dazed — but I know he got my 
watch, for I hung on to the chain and he jerked it away 
from me." I said, "Well of course I do not know who has 
your watch, but I will make an effort to recover it for you, 
and if I find it you will see me again. Good-day." 

On my return to camp, I sent for my man who had the 
watch "taken from a dead man." He reported to me 
promptly, and as he approached me I saw a handsome gold 
chain suspended from his jacket pocket. I said, "I hear 



BATTLE OF BRANDY STATION 6<J 

you got a gold watch yesterday after the fight, off the per- 
son of a dead man. 1 would like to see it." Without hesi- 
tation he drew it from his pocket and handed it to me. I 
found the case answered the description that had been given 
me. I opened it and there were the identical words, "From 
father," which the wounded man had told me were in his 
watch ; the chain was also in accordance with the descrip- 
tion I had of it. 

I said to the man, "I am sorry you have disgraced your- 
self and reflected on your company. You are, I believe, the 
first man of my company who has ever robbed a wounded 
man. I shall keep this watch and return it to its owner, 
who is in the hospital at Brandy Station." 

He declared he thought the man was dead or about dead 
when he took the watch, and denied taking the pocket-book. 
I told him the officer said he had taken the watch by force ; 
this he also denied. I reprimanded him severely and threat- 
ened to court-martial him if I ever heard of his robbing a 
prisoner, wounded or not, again. 

I delivered the watch to the owner the same evening I 
recovered it. His entire demeanor changed. He thanked 
me time and again for recovering his watch; repeat- 
edly begged me to pardon him for his harsh language 
in the morning; told me about his wound, which while se- 
vere was not dangerous, and we parted, as he expressed it, 
"good friends." For many years I preserved his name and 
rank on a slip of paper upon which he had written them, but 
I have lost the slip, and I am unable to recall either. The 
affair was so soon over and my effort to extricate myself 
from him and get away so vigorous I did not notice his rank, 
or if I did I do not remember it. I hope yet to find the slip 
with his name and rank on it. 



CHAPTER X 

UPPERVILLE AND INCIDENTS. 
Twelve Days of Almost Continuous Cavalry Fighting— Major Von 
Borcke— A Drink of "Mountain Dew"— Two Wishes for Wounded 
Furloughs and What Came of Them— The Fight at Upperville— I 
Receive a Supposed Mortal Wound— The Brave Timberlakes— Told 
That I Would Die— The Roar of Gettysburg Heard a Hundred 
Miles Away— A Man Who Would Not Fight— Happenings While 
Recovering— My War Home— Fate of Lieutenant Buck — A Brave 
Color-Bearer— Charles Broadway Rouss — Stuart's Raid Around the 
Federal Army. 

From June 9, Brandy Station, until the 21st, there were 
continuous cavalry engagements of immense magnitude and 
with the most bloody consequences. The names of Aldie, 
Middleburg, and Upperville were raised from obscurity and 
made historic. These fields, especially the last named, will 
figure in all time to come as the scenes of as desperate cav- 
alry fighting as the world has ever seen. Lee's army was 
on its Gettysburg advance, and the main body was moving 
toward the Potomac by way of the Shenandoah Valley, 
and our cavalry was engaged in covering its movements, 
while the Federal cavalry were active and alert in an effort 
to discover the movements that were being made and to 
search out the purposes of Lee. We were guarding all gaps 
and passes in the Blue Ridge Range for miles and obscuring 
the course our army was taking and concealing the design 
of our immortal Commander-in-Chief. We succeeded well, 
but it was an arduous job, crimsoned with human gore. 

At Aldie the lion-hearted Major Von Borcke, a Prussian 
soldier who was serving on General Stuart's staff, was most 
seriously wounded. He was a man of immense proportions 
and a Hercules in strength, and delighted to charge with his 
heavy sabre raised above his head ready to descend with ter- 
rific force upon any enemy that might be so unfortunate as 
to come within his reach, rather than use his pistol. In- 
stances of death or severe wounding from the stroke or 



UPPERVILLE AND INCIDENTS 7 I 

thrust of the sabre were comparatively few, but Von Borcke 
did far more execution with his bright and gleaming blade 
than he did with his pistol, and I do not believe there was a 
soldier on either side whose record for sabre execution could 
compare with that of this noted Prussian dragoon as he 
flashed his blade under the rustling folds of the stars and 
bars. He recovered ultimately from his wound and lived to 
the end of the struggle, and then, with a heart sad over the 
defeat of the South, he returned to his native land. 

I shall only speak specifically of Upperville, as it is more 
indelibly impressed upon my memory than either Aldie or 
Middleburg, for it was there I received what was regarded 
at the time by the surgeons who saw me as a surely mortal 
wound. 

On the night of the 20th of June my squadron was on 
picket at what was called the Pot House. It was a stormy 
night, and when we were ordered to join our regiment 
the next morning we were as wet as if we had been dipped 
in a river. As we were getting ready to mount, Capt. Albert 
Swindler, of Company G, who had been picketing near me, 
sent for my canteen; when it was returned to me it was 
full of what he called "mountain dew," distilled from pine 
tops. I drank some of it ; it was as strong as aqua fortis, 
and pretty stimulating; all of my men who wanted it took 
a draught, until there was very little left, but that little 
proved to be of great benefit before the day closed, as will 
hereafter appear. 

The regiment was gathered together, and we marched in 
the direction of Upperville. On the march Lieut. Walter 
Buck, of the Seventh Regiment, who had been detailed to 
gather forage for his regiment, joined and rode with me. 
He knew most of my men, as they were from his county. 
As we rode along chatting, we both expressed a desire to see 
home folks, but we concluded there was no chance unless 
we could get a wounded furlough, and we both expressed 
a willingness to receive a little wound so that we could see 
our loved ones. I had an intimation that General Lee was 
bound for Maryland, "My Maryland," and if so, a slight 



72 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

wound would give me an opportunity of looking in on my 
mother and sisters at home. In half-play and half-earnest 
we discussed the kind of a wound we would like ; he wanted 
his in the leg so his arms would be free to embrace the girls 
who would greet him, if they would let him; I decided to 
take mine in the arm, so that I would have my legs to get 
away on, in the event it became necessary in the Union coun- 
try in which my home was located. All this time we could 
hear firing in front of us, and we were sure that we would 
soon be in the fight ; neither of us ever dreamed what ter- 
rible fortune to "both was just ahead, and that in a very 
short time he would receive his everlasting furlough and I 
would be left for dead on the field. Still it was just what 
happened. 

When our regiment got to Ayer's farm, near Upperville, 
we found our front absolutely blue with cavalry and in- 
fantry. Dividing the field we were in and a field the enemy 
occupied ran a road, with a stone fence on either side, in 
which there was an occasional gap. 

I was ordered to charge the enemy. I gave the command 
and away we went, until we struck the lane, and there we 
had to stop and engage the enemy with our carbines and 
pistols. In the meantime the enemy had been pouring a 
galling fire into our ranks, and our men and horses were 
falling fast. I do not think we were there more than ten 
minutes when I was ordered to fall back, and as I was form- 
ing my company to take it off" in order, I was struck by a 
carbine ball which pierced my left chest. Motioning — I 
could not speak — to Lieutenant Rouss, or Baylor, I have for- 
gotten which, to take command, I fell limp and unconscious 
from my saddle. I was, however, sufficiently conscious to 
feel my men unbuckling my sabre and pistols to take them 
away with them. I have no recollection of what occurred 
from that moment until I was aroused to partial conscious- 
ness by violent pain, and I found myself astride of a horse, 
with strong arms around me, going at a rapid trot over a 
rough road, and a man riding on either side, aiding in keep- 
ing my limp body on the horse. 



UPPERVIHE AND INCIDENTS 73 

They carried me to a house near the base of the Blue 
Ridge and left me, as they supposed, to die. Their only pur- 
pose had been to save my body, and they had risked their 
lives to do it, and it has always been a wonder to me how 
they all escaped uninjured, for myriads of bullets, I have 
been told, were fired at them. 

The soldier who carried me from this field was Sergeant 
Seth M. Timberlake, of Company B of my squadron of 
the Twelfth Cavalry. He was one of a large family by his 
name who lived in Frederick, Clarke, and Jefferson Coun- 
ties. As to the two assistants, there has always been a dis- 
pute. 

The Timberlake family furnished, I am sure, as many 
soldiers to the Confederate Army as any family in the 
South, and they were nearly all in the cavalry. If I were 
called upon to name the bravest family, numbers considered, 
I knew or heard of in the Army of Northern Virginia, I 
would without a moment's hesitation name the Virginia 
Timberlakes. More than a dozen households were repre- 
sented in the army, and without an exception they were 
brave and true to their very marrow. I firmly believe if a 
thousand Timberlakes could have been martialed on the 
banks of the Potomac, well mounted and equipped, and put 
under the command of a Timberlake, and ordered to the 
Commons of Boston, some of them would have reached that 
historic ground unless they had fallen on the way. Nothing 
short of death or disabling wounds would have checked 
them. 

Sergeant Seth M. Timberlake, to whom I have referred 
above as the soldier who carried me from the Upperville 
field, took one chance in a hundred of escaping death when 
he returned to me. He still lives, and is connected with the 
house of Charles Broadway Rouss of New York, and re- 
tains as a war relic his old McClellan saddle with my blood 
stains on its skirts. He is now far down on the shady side 
of life, but the spirit of the Timberlakes still lives with him. 
May God lengthen his days far beyond man's allotted time. 

The surgeon of my regiment was sent to me at the house 



74 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

on the mountain slope. He found the ball had passed 
through the sack of my heart, just escaping it as it was con- 
tracting, and ranging slightly upward had come out about 
midway between the point of my shoulder-blade and spinal 
column, lodging, somewhat warped and twisted, in the pad- 
ding of my coat. He told me that I could not live, and if I 
had any preparations to make he thought I had better make 
them. He was a brusque, abrupt fellow, and by no means a 
favorite in the regiment. His remark or information irri- 
tated me, and I said, "You don't know what you are talking 
about; I intend to live, and the only preparation I shall 
make will be to get well, and I will try and get some other 
surgeon." This statement is substantially, if not exactly, 
correct. 

I received my wound about five o'clock in the afternoon; 
it was about eight when I was coolly told I must die. I 
was very weak from the loss of blood, and I was suffering 
pain from the wind sucking through my lung whenever I 
breathed, so I asked the lady of the house to give me some- 
thing to plug up the hole with. Instead, however, she 
brought a piece of cotton cloth of several thicknesses, wet 
with water, and laid it over my wound. This gave me in- 
stant relief, and in a few moments I dropped off to sleep 
and slept perhaps an hour. When I awoke I felt stronger 
and better. The night passed and the day dawned and I 
was still alive, to the surprise of the surgeon, who spoke 
of my wonderful vitality and said I had a good fighting 
chance to get well. He then bade me good-by and said an- 
other surgeon would look after me. This was agreeable 
news to me — his departure and the coming of another sur- 
geon. 

The substituted surgeon was Doctor Thomas Settle, sur- 
geon of the Eleventh Regiment, whose home was at Upper- 
ville. He took me in hand and gave me the most careful at- 
tention. His presence in my chamber was a benediction; 
his face was like a sunbeam; his voice, soft and mellow, 
was like music to my ear. On Wednesday, three days after 
I was shot, my mother, unexpectedly but to my supreme 



UPPERVIEEE AND INCIDENTS 75 

joy, reached me. In twenty-four hours she had driven about 
sixty miles, over rough roads, through swollen streams and 
the darkness of night, and was on her knees at the bedside of 
her first born and "Confederate soldier-boy." She relieved 
the sweet woman who had been ministering with the tender- 
ness of a sister to my wants. As I laid flat on my back in 
my bed I heard distinctly the roar of the cannon at Gettys- 
burg, a hundred miles away. I did not know where it was, 
but I knew it was the resounding of cannon, and that a 
great battle was in progress somewhere beyond the waters 
of the Potomac. The sound kept me stirred and excited, 
so Dr. Settle, under the pretense of being afraid I would 
catch the ear-ache, to which I had been subject before leav- 
ing home, stuffed cotton in my ears to deaden the sound. 

I had in my company one man who would not fight; he 
would do any duty but fight; he would flunk every time 
there was any danger and keep out of harm's way. In the 
evening at Upperville as we were about to make our charge, 
and I was riding to the front of the squadron, I saw this 
man, whom I shall call Smith, in the rear file of the squad- 
ron. His face was as long as a fence rail and he was snuff- 
ing danger in the air. I determined that he should go into 
that fight, so I detailed Sergeant James Grubbs, of Warren 
County, who knew nothing but to obey orders, to take Smith 
into that charge and keep him in the fight as long as it 
lasted. I thought no more of the matter until about candle 
light that night when, lying on a mattress on the floor 
of the mountain home, to which I had been carried, 
all at once I saw Smith bending over me apparently deeply 
affected. I spoke to him in feeble tones. He said, "Captain, 
I am mighty sorry to see you are wounded. Are you much 
hurt, Captain?" I replied, "Yes, but I will pull through." 
"Well, Captain," he said, "that was the hottest place I was 
ever in. I had that fine sorrel mare of mine killed down 

there near the stone fence, and a bullet burnt my b y 

clear across, just there," pointing to the place. The ser- 
geant had obeyed his orders and put him in the fight, but 
Smith made no allusion to that fact. 



76 »RTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

Morgan County did not furnish more than twenty sol- 
diers to the Confederate Army. Among them was John- 
son Orrick, the delegate in the Secession Convention, whose 
father had been a prominent citizen and a successful farmer. 
Orrick enlisted in some company which I cannot at this 
time recall. As soon as I became a captain he secured a 
transfer to my company, with which he remained until the 
Maryland Campaign of 1862 was over, when he was ap- 
pointed quartermaster of an infantry regiment — the Thirty- 
third. 

Our fathers were about the same age, had been friends in 
their boyhood, and warm personal and political friends in 
their young manhood, and until "God's finger touched them 
and they slept." Each had been married twice, and each 
had attended the other's weddings. In February, 1856, they 
were both taken sick the same day and almost the same 
hour; they died within a few hours of each other; they 
were buried the same day, one in the forenoon, the other in 
the afternoon, in different cemeteries, six miles apart. Dif- 
ferent ministers of different religious denominations 
preached the sermons respectively, and without any under- 
standing between them they took the same text : 

"And as it is appointed unto men, once to die, and after 
this the judgment." 

On the 2 1 st day of June, 1863, at five o'clock in the af- 
ternoon I was wounded at Upperville ; almost the same mo- 
ment Johnson Orrick was wounded in Maryland, for al- 
though he was a quartermaster, he was "a fighting quarter- 
master." In a few days he died, while I was hovering upon 
the brink of eternity. I shall never, no never, forget the 
impression his death made upon my mother. She recalled 
the facts in connection with the lives and deaths of our 
fathers, of our entering the army together and being 
wounded at the same moment. Her soul sank within her, 
for she felt that the hand of fate that seemed to have held 
father to father, and son to son, so closely together would 
not be withdrawn, and that I must soon die. But God in 
His Infinite Wisdom stayed the hand from day to day, and 



UPPERVIIvLE AND INCIDENTS JJ 

her face began to brighten and her hope to strengthen, and 
I broke the spell which seemed to have followed long, 
and lived. Never while life lasts will I forget the joy that 
lit up the face of my mother when my surgeon told her I 
had passed the crisis and would recover. 

Under the splendid care of Dr. Settle, one of the most 
skilful and succesful surgeons in the Army, and the watch- 
fulness and excellent nursing of my mother, I began to im- 
prove and gather strength, and in less than a month after I 
was hurt I rode six miles on horseback across the Blue Ridsre 
to escape capture by a Federal raiding party, crossed the 
Shenandoah River in a boat as the raiders appeared, and 
made a dash to the river, and taking command of some Con- 
federates who had been left there to guard the ferry, opened 
fire upon the raiders and drove them back. I was of course 
very weak, but the occasion inspired and strengthened me 
while the firing was going on, but when we had driven the 
raiders off and prevented them from destroying the ferry- 
boats, I almost collapsed, and was put into a buggy and 
driven about three miles to Millwood, where I was cheer- 
fully received into the home of Mr. James Ryan, and in a 
few days, through the kind nursing and ministrations of 
Mrs. Ryan, I felt strong enough to stand a drive to Win- 
chester and there found quarters with Mr. Robert C. Gustin, 
who was a Southern refugee from my West Virginia home, 
and a friend from my boyhood. Here I had a relapse and 
was perhaps as near death's door as when I was first 
wounded, and for days I lingered on the brink of eternity. 
Surgeons held their consultations and they all agreed my 
condition was exceedingly critical. I believe everybody 
thought I would die, but myself; I never had any other idea 
than that I would live. My mother had come on and had 
again taken charge of me. Among the surgeons called in 
consultation was Dr. Hunter McGuire, whose after fame 
was not confined to the limits of this land, but extended to 
foreign lands. His statue in bronze now stands in the beau- 
tiful Capitol Square at Richmond. 

A year or two before he died Dr. McGuire published some 
of his war reminiscences, and among them he mentioned 



yS FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

his visit to me in Winchester. He said when he stepped up 
to my bedside and saw where the places of entrance and 
exit of the ball were he remarked, " 'Why, O'Ferrall, that 
ball ought to have hit your heart ; how did it come to miss 
it?' " and I replied, " 'It didn't strike my heart, Doctor, be- 
cause my heart was in my mouth.' 

As soon as I could be moved with safety I was sent up 
the Valley in an ambulance, with a young sister of mine and 
one of my company, Alfred Ferguson, now an honored citi- 
zen of Winchester, whose war record is as untarnished as a 
descending flake of snow, and a man true in all the rela- 
tions of life. At New Market, my war home, the door of 
Jacob Clinedinst was thrown wide open to me as the ambu- 
lance stopped in front. From this entire family I received 
the kindest attention, but I would be false to my own feel- 
ings if I did not mention especially one of the young ladies 
of the household, Miss Eliza. She was as a ministering 
angel to me ; every wish, whim, or caprice of mine she grat- 
ified; every dainty that could tempt my appetite was pre- 
pared for me by her own hand ; my room was kept redolent 
with flowers. She took turns with my sister in reading to 
me, and nothing that she thought would give me pleasure 
or relieve the tedium of my confinement escaped her. She 
was an enthusiastic Southern girl, ready to serve the cause 
in every possible way. For some years she has been the 
wife of a Mr. Crim, of New Market, and believes as firmly 
now that the South was right as she did forty years ago. 

When I had recovered sufficiently to get about I was in- 
vited by Mr. Amos Crabill to stay with him. I accepted the 
invitation and think I remained with him until I was ready 
to return to duty about the middle of September. Mr. Cra- 
bill could not have treated me more kindly if I had been his 
own son. 

It would delight me much if I could speak at length of 
New Market. I have called it my war home. My own 
home, as I have said, was within the enemy's country. The 
people of New Market nursed me three different times when 
wounded. Every house was open to me. I knew every- 
bodv and everybody knew me. 



UPPERVILEE AND INCIDENTS 79 

The whole town was loyal to the core, and sent her 
full quota to the Army, and without an exception, as 
far as I ever knew or heard, her soldiers reflected 
credit upon themselves and the flag under which 
they fought. The Rice battery was recruited from 
this town and surrounding country, and it became 
famous for its splendid services and fighting qualities. 
Its commander, Captain William H. Rice, lost a leg, but he 
survived the war, and still lives an honored citizen of Shen- 
andoah County. The Henkels, Zirkels, Shirleys, Neffs, 
Rices, Williamsons, Hoovers, Prices, Moffets, and scores of 
other families I could mention were as loyal to the cause of 
the South as were the patriots of '76 to the cause of the 
Colonies. It was at New Market that the last armed body 
of Confederate soldiers disbanded. 

Having now given, in perhaps too full detail, what fol- 
lowed my expressed desire for a "furlough wound" at Up- 
perville, I come to the fate of my dear comrade, Lieutenant 
Buck, who expressed a like desire. When we made the 
charge he was by my side in the front of the squadron. He 
was a tall, handsome young fellow, near my age; he was 
well mounted, and was a typical Southern cavalryman; he 
had been trained by Ashby the first year of the war, and 
had won his lieutenant's spurs by his chivalry and daring. 

I do not remember seeing him at the stone fence, but he 
was there, as attested by his dead body. I was told he saw 
me fall and started to me, when he was struck by a ball and 
instantly killed. So, as I have said, we both received 
wounds — "furlough wounds" ; his wound furloughed him 
forever, mine for months, and almost eternally. His body 
was recovered and buried at his home in Warren County, 
and on no mound should grass grow greener or roses bloom 
sweeter than upon his grave. He added a leaf to the laurel 
wreath of the Bucks, whose members in the Confederate 
Army were many, every one of whom was entitled to a 
medal of honor. It was most truly a family of fighters. 

For some time prior to the Battle of Upperville the color- 
bearer of the Twelfth Cavalry was Tom Garber, a member 



80 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

of my company. Colonel Harman was Tom's cousin, and 
when Tom came to the regiment he asked his advice as to 
what company he should join, and the Colonel told him he 
thought Company I would suit him, so he enlisted in my 
company. 

It did not take me long to determine of what metal he was 
made. In a fight he was in his element, and the hotter it was 
the better he liked it. He was only seventeen years of age, 
yet he was over six feet in height, splendidly built, and much 
more mature every way than most boys of his age. He 
had been raised in the saddle and was a superb rider. A 
vacancy occurred in the color sergeancy of the regiment — 
how it occurred I do not now remember, and Tom applied 
for the position and it was given to him, and never in any 
war, on any field, were the colors of an army more grandly 
and heroically borne. 

He entered the charge at Upperville in the van, with his 
colors streaming in the breezes above his head as he charged 
down the field to the stone fence. There under the rain of 
lead he stood waving the stars and bars until just as I was 
shot, when he reeled in his saddle, and still clinging to his 
flag staff he fell to the ground dead. He was a brother of 
Major A. H. Garber, of Richmond, whose record as the 
commander of Garber's battery is too well known to require 
any encomiums from me. Of all the brave and intrepid 
boys whom it was my pleasure and privilege to observe dur- 
ing the four years of strife, I never saw one who was the 
superior of Tom Garber ; and as brave and dashing as our 
cavalrymen were generally, I do not detract from them 
when I declare that I recall comparatively few who were 
his equals, taking him all in all. He rests in Thornrose 
Cemetery at Staunton, beneath the sod of old Augusta, and 
while she can boast of many gallant sons, she had none 
more gallant than the young color-bearer of the Twelfth 
Cavalry who yielded up his life at Upperville. 

The unique Charles Broadway Rouss served as a private 
in Company B (Baylor's company), which, with my com- 



UPPERVIIvLE AND INCIDENTS 8 1 

pany (I), composed the squadron I commanded from 
August, 1862, to June, 1863 — it was the First Squadron of 
the Twelfth Regiment of Virginia Cavalry. 

Milton P. Rouss, a younger brother, was first lieutenant 
of Company B, and made a reputation for energy and dar- 
ing surpassed by no officer in the regiment. Charles Broad- 
way, the second name having been assumed by him some 
time after he located in the city of New York "as poor as a 
church mouse," was in many respects a most remarkable 
man. He possessed as much determination and will-power 
as any man I have ever known. 

The word "fail" he had stricken out of his vocabulary, 
and over it he had written in living letters the word "suc- 
cess." Starting business as a stranger and without friends 
or financial aid amid the busy throng and seething masses 
of the metropolis of this immense country, in the course of 
a few years he became a prominent figure in the mercantile 
circles of the vast city. He continued year by year to grow 
in prominence and wealth until his recent death, when his 
estate was rated among the millions. While success was 
attending him in every venture or undertaking he lost none 
of his love for his old State or war comrades. Without 
ostentation or trumpeting, but quietly and without display, 
he contributed liberally to aid his impoverished people and 
to erect public buildings, and met the calls of charity with- 
out stint. He made a handsome donation to the University 
of Virginia, founded by Thomas Jefferson, from whose 
walls have walked forth thousands who have made their 
mark in the councils of the nation, at the bar, in the pulpit, 
and in the arts and sciences, and in war. 

He remembered his comrades who in the din of battle had 
proved themselves worthy to stand among the South's true 
and loyal defenders, and his pay-rolls will show the names 
of hundreds to whom he had given employment and succor 
in their days of need. With his soul still burning with 
Southern fervor he announced several years ago his readi- 
ness to contribute $100,000 toward the erection of a Con- 
federate Museum, and before long a grand and magnificent 
6 



82 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

structure will be erected in the City of Richmond as a mon- 
ument to the heroism and devotion, sufferings and sacrifices 
of the Southern people in the cause they loved well and bap- 
tized copiously with their blood. 

In 1895, at the Confederate Reunion in Richmond, I in- 
vited Mr. Rouss to attend the meeting and be my guest. I 
received a reply, written in his peculiar style, so familiar to 
the whole country. Spelling phonetically, he expressed his 
regret that his blindness would deprive him of all pleasure 
if he attended, and for that reason he declined my invitation 
with hearty thanks. 

This space has been given to this imperfect tribute to 
Charles Broadway Rouss because I have felt that he de- 
served a place in these reminiscences. He was a member 
of my squadron, a faithful soldier, a loyal son of Virginia, 
and a devoted lover of the cause which, though lost, is gar- 
landed with glories. 

Rouss, as I have just said, was a member of the squadron 
I commanded. I love to write of this squadron and the 
men who made it famous. It was the charging squadron of 
the Twelfth Regiment, and when leading it in a charge I 
never thought of looking back to see whether it was follow- 
ing me with closed ranks and every man in his place, for I 
knew all were, except two, who I was sure would shirk and 
skulk. One of these I have already mentioned, withholding 
his real name for the sake of hisjdn; the other was a fel- 
low whom I had never known to get within range of a bul- 
let as long as he was under my command. But the time 
came when skulking would not avail him. It was on Gen- 
eral Stuart's remarkable raid around the Federal Army. Of 
course nobody except Stuart himself and a select few had 
the slightest idea of his purpose. 

The venture is known to have been one of the most 
hazardous of the war, and its success was regarded as a 
marvel. The Federal cavalry in immense numbers were 
soon upon his trail, and finally in his front and rear and on 
his flanks — in a word he was surrounded, and time and 
again he had to cut his way out. This skulker was with 



UPPERVILLE AND INCIDENTS 83 

his command, frightened almost to death, but he could not 
skulk, there was no rear to which he could fall back as he 
had always done and secure saftey, so in his desperation he 
began to fight, and he continued to fight until the raid ended 
and I was told that thenceforward to Appomattox he was as 
good a fighter as the squadron had in its ranks. It is the 
only instance I ever heard of a man who had for three 
years displayed the most abject cowardice being sud- 
denly transformed into a brave man. It was a piece of 
transformation which I must leave to a wiser head than 
mine to explain. 

In my squadron was a small, fair-haired young fellow, — 
a private, — modest, sweet-tempered, lovable, always at his 
post, never seeking promotion and seemingly not caring for 
it — who was destined to rise to pinnacles of fame in the 
walks of peace. He became a prominent lawyer, a dis- 
tinguished member of Congress, and Postmaster-General 
of- the United States, and at his death was President of 
Washington and Lee University. 

It was William Lyne Wilson, of whom additional mention 
will be made in the second part of this book. 

Where the discharge of duty was so universal, as in my 
squadron, it would seem to be invidious to select a few for 
special reference, but at the risk of being charged with par- 
tiality there are some of my men whom I shall pick out for 
tributes, which no member of my squadron can say are not 
worthily and truthfully bestowed. 

Among the best all-around soldiers in my squadron were 
privates Tim Baylor, Bob Wright, Charlie Crane, John 
Chew, Will Thomson, and Frank Manning, of Company 
B — the first three of whom were killed ; Sergeant James 
Grubbs, Corporals Bushrod Rust and Enoch Lake, and Pri- 
vate Lewis Coverstone, of Company I. They were always 
ready for any duty; no danger ever appalled them; no 
venture, however perilous, ever daunted them ; they de- 
lighted in the charge ; they were steady and firm in the 
standing firing line, cool and nervy under the most trying 
circumstances. They were always well mounted, they took 



84 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

excellent care of their horses and equipment (a prime duty 
with a cavalryman), and day and night they were quick to 
respond to any call. 

Corporal Rust was not more than a lad in age and size, 
but he was a full-fledged man in all the attributes of a true 
soldier. He is still living, a beloved citizen of the City of 
Roanoke, Virginia. May God lengthen his days and pre- 
serve him long to his people, whose confidence and esteem 
he possesses to the fullest degree. 

Occasionally there would be a truce on the picket line and 
there would be no firing. In the winter of 1862-63 I was on 
picket below Charlestown near Halltown on the Harpers 
Ferry Pike. Between the lines a creek of clear, cool water 
from springs crossed the pike and wended its course to the 
Shenandoah. Often I have ridden forward with two or 
three of my boys, during these truces, to this creek and met 
the officer in charge of the Federal picket line with an equal 
number with him, and while our horses were drinking the 
sparkling waters we would converse and probably exchange 
newspapers, the boys in gray trading tobacco to the boys 
in blue for sugar or coffee. Several times I met Captain 
(afterwards Major) Vernon, of a Maryland cavalry bat- 
talion, a handsome fellow, and as gallant and brave as he 
was handsome. 

Some time after these truce meetings had ended, in a 
charge which he was splendidly leading, Vernon lost an 
eye from a Confederate bullet. In the spring of 1864 he 
made a dash up the Shenandoah Valley, and at Edenburg 
took one of the companies (I) of my regiment, commanded 
by Captain H. H. Riddleberger, late United States Senator 
and recently a prominent figure in Virginia politics, entirely 
by surprise, and captured many of the horses of the com- 
pany, and carried them safely to his camp in the lower Val- 
ley. He was so energetic and bold that we were compelled 
to keep a watch out and be vigilant lest "Vernon's cavalry" 
would steal a march on us and catch us napping. 

During one of the Republican Administrations of Nation- 
al affairs in later years Vernon was appointed to an import- 



UrPERVILLE AND INCIDENTS 85 

ant Federal position — collector of customs, I think — at the 
Baltimore port, which he filled with perfect satisfaction, as I 
was informed. I am under the impression that he is still 
living and that he resides in Frederick City, Maryland. 

There was nothing that exemplified more fully the fact 
that there was no malice in the hearts of the soldiers of the 
two sides — one toward the other — than the meetings I have 
just described. The men were as chummy as circumstances 
would permit; there were no cross words spoken, no crim- 
ination or re-crimination; and yet perhaps in less than an 
hour they would be eagerly engaged in an effort to kill or 
maim each other. Such is war, 

"That mad game the world so loves to play." 



CHAPTER XI 

PICKET AND SCOUT DUTY. 

Promoted to Major and Authorized to Raise Battalion of Cavalry- 
Picket and Scout Duty— An Experience with some Reinforcements 
— My Command Merged into the Twenty-third Regiment of Cavalry 
—The Scarcity of Horses and Some Prices— A Raid on My Old 
Home— Our Captures and Federal Reprisals for Same. 

I did not return to my squadron or regiment after I re- 
covered from my lung wound. I was promoted to major 
and authorized to raise a battalion of cavalry. I went to 
work at once and in a short time I had gathered around me 
quite a nucleus of young fellows who lived within the ene- 
my's lines and others who within our lines had become or 
were about to become liable to military service. My old 
company was anxious to come to me, and I received a peti- 
tion to be presented to the proper authorities for a transfer, 
but I was satisfied it would be futile so I never presented it. 
It was, however, most gratifying to me to have this evi- 
dence of the esteem of men with whom as lieutenant and 
captain I had been closely associated from April, 1862; 
whom I had commanded from August, 1862; whose cour- 
age and devotion I had seen tested scores and scores of 
times, on picket, in skirmishes, engagements and pitched 
battles ; who had been weighed in the scales of chivalry and 
loyalty and never found wanting. My affection for them 
was strong ; for some of them I had a brotherly feeling. It 
was hard for me to part with them, but I had the desire that 
most soldiers have — that of promotion. A major's star was 
more attractive to me than a captain's bars, and besides the 
thought that I would be the commanding officer of a battal- 
ion and not a subordinate officer in a regiment was alluring 
to me. Still I knew that the regiment to which I had been 
attached had won fame and glory, and did not know with 
what credit mv battalion of new and untried men would ac- 
quit itself. This thought sometimes almost caused me to 



PICKET AND SCOUT DUTY 87 

regret that I had accepted my promotion, but T would reason 
that the boys who would come to me had the same Virginia 
blood in their veins, they had been taught by the same kind 
of Virginia mothers, and that the fathers or brothers of 
most, if not all of them, had done their duty and chiseled 
their names on the scrolls of the brave and true ; then why 
should I fear that my boys would prove themselves re- 
creant ? 

I was put on picket and scout duty in the Valley. My 
embryo battalion gradually continued to grow until I had 
two pretty full companies. 

In the early part of December, 1863, the First Regi- 
ment of New York Cavalry, under the command of a 
Colonel Boyd, commenced an advance up the Valley. The 
weather was bitter cold, and as I confronted Boyd with 
my partly-formed battalion and such men "on leave" and 
wounded furloughs as I could gather up, in the bleak winds 
and freezing atmosphere, with numerous roads to guard and 
at the same time to keep a force in front of the advancing 
regiment, I had a difficult task. Still we were able to so 
oppose Boyd's advance and to make such a demonstration 
in his front as to cause him to move slowly and cautiously 
and "feel his way." With not more than fifty men with me 
and in his front, it took him from early morning to sunsec 
to move his regiment from Edenburg to New Market, a 
distance of twelve miles, at which latter place he encamped 
for the night. 

I established my picket line about two miles south of 
him, put my reserve two miles farther up the Valley, and 
then being nearly exhausted and suffering from my injured 
lung, I rode with a courier or two to Lacey Springs, to get 
shelter from the stinging cold and some rest. I was re- 
ceived into the warm Southern home of Abraham Lincoln 
(a cousin of President Lincoln), who still lives, vigorous 
and strong, far up in the eighties, in the same home in 
which he was born and reared, esteemed by all his people. 
I rested well and at sunrise, after enjoying a good break- 



88 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

fast, I mounted my horse and with my couriers rode to the 
camp of my reserve. 

I had hardly reached there when a picket announced 
Boyd's advance. Taking my reserve I fell back up the pike, 
sending- orders to the pickets to fall back, keeping a safe dis- 
tance from the enemy, but never to lose sight of them, and 
if they left the pike to inform me at once. 

At Lacey Springs I met a body of fellows who had been 
sent from Harrisonburg to reinforce me — there were per- 
haps seventy-five of them; they were of all sorts — con- 
scripts, quartermaster's clerks, camp-loafers, with here and 
there a real soldier. I conceived the idea if I could place 
them in a position of safety, where they could fire without 
the fear of being shot at, I might make use of them and pos- 
sibly do some execution with them. I thought instantly of 
a place to station them, so I marched them south about a 
mile to a piece of woods in a hollow on the side of the pike, 
and which could not be seen by any body of troops ap- 
proaching it from the north until they were right on it. 
Here I stationed them, and told them that I wanted to toll 
the enemy into a trap ; that I would instruct my men to in- 
duce the enemy if possible to charge them and to retreat by 
the place, and when the enemy's column was well abreast of 
us they should fire into the flank; that they must be cool, 
and after delivering the fire they must charge, and I would 
lead them. I rode back to an elevated point overlooking the 
pike for quite a distance. 

Soon I saw the Federals advancing and my men falling 
back before them. When they had reached a point perhaps 
half a mile off, the Federals charged and my men retreated. 
I galloped back into the woods, told my "reinforcements" 
the enemy would be upon them in a minute or two, and that 
they must remember their orders. On the Federals came, 
by the woods my men swept, and when the Federal flank 
for at least a hundred yards was exposed, three or four only 
of the miserable fellows fired, and then the whole crowd 
broke with break-neck speed back through the woods, scat- 
tering as they ran like a flock of wild turkeys when flushed 



PICKET AND SCOUT DUTY 89 

by a hunter's hound. Instantly the Federal cavalry dashed 
into the woods, and in my efforts to escape my hat was 
knocked off by a limb of a tree, which was a great loss, par- 
ticularly the plume, for hats and plumes were then worth 
much more than their weight in fractional Confederate cur- 
rency. I felt somewhat reconciled to my loss when I found 
that a dozen or more of the cowardly scamps had been cap- 
tured. 

The Federal cavalry encamped that night just north of 
Harrisonburg. The next morning they occupied Harrison- 
burg for a few hours, and then took up their backward 
march down the Valley. 

I was much pleased with the manner in which the inex- 
perienced and untried boys of my new battalion had be- 
haved, and I was satisfied I was gathering around me the 
same kind of boys who had won fame and victory at First 
Manassas. I was soon ordered to the Page or Massanutten 
Valley, and there continued on scout and picket duty. 

In the early spring of 1864 my battalion was consolidated 
with a larger battalion, — Colonel Robert White's — forming 
the Twenty-third Regiment; Colonel White, an energetic 
and brave officer, became colonel, I was made lieutenant- 
colonel, and Captain F. H. Calmese was made major. 

In April, 1864, the Twenty-third Regiment was encamped 
at New Market. The spring campaign had not fully opened, 
but everything indicated that we should have warm times 
very soon. I had quite a number of dismounted men — men 
who had lost their horses in battle, or whose horses had been 
disabled, or had died from disease. 

Horses were scarce and hard to get, and if they had been 
ever so plentiful my men could not have purchased them, 
when an ordinary horse brought readily $2,000 to $3,000 in 
Confederate money, and the private soldier got $14 per 
month in the same currency. As our government did not 
supply cavalrymen with horses, they had to furnish or cap- 
ture their own. 

It had been reported to us that on a certain Saturday 
night in every month an organization of citizens, called a 



yO FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

"Union League," met in the Odd Fellows Hall in the town 
of Berkeley Springs, my home; that its members were gen- 
erally countrymen and rode into the town to the meetings 
on their horses. I did not like to raid my old friends, but 
i argued that they were Virginians, and as they had contrib- 
uted nothing toward the support of the Confederacy in her 
struggle it would not be wrong for me to impress a few of 
their horses for my dismounted men. So one Thursday I 
mounted twenty-eight picked men on picked horses, and tak- 
ing Captain jack Adams with me we started to Berkeley 
Springs, distant eighty-five miles, near the Potomac River, 
and only six miles from Pennsylvania. We arrived in the 
neighborhood of Unger's store, eighteen miles from our 
point of destination, near daylight Saturday morning, and 
laid in a hollow in the mountains until about four o'clock 
in the afternoon, when we took up our march for Berkeley, 
moving along rapidly down the main road. We reached 
the town about eight o'clock, and just before doing so I 
divided my men and sent half of them with a guide who was 
a former resident of the town to secure the horses belonging 
to the Leaguers, hitched some distance from their place of 
meeting, and with the other half I rode quickly to the Odd 
Fellows Hall. 

I sprang from my horse, and in an instant I had the sen- 
tinel at the door leading up to the hall a prisoner ; in a min- 
ute more Captain Adams and I had thrown the lodge-room 
door open, and with our pistols covering them we were de- 
manding the surrender of the Leaguers, who filled the hall 
well, and in another minute, surprised and frightened, they 
had all surrendered to us. 

In the meeting were a West Virginia State Senator, Aaron 
Bechtol ; a member of the House of Delegates, Joseph S. 
Wheat; and the Commonwealth's Attorney for the county, 
a man by the name of Finn. After putting all under guard 
I rode into the center of the town to my home and met my 
three sisters and little brother just for a few moments. 
When I returned to the hall I found the squad that had 
been sent for the horses; they had done their work well. 



PICKET AND SCOUT DUTY 9 1 

There was a Federal cavalry force many times larger than 
mine only two miles away, and I was nearly a hundred miles 
from any support, and was in danger of being cut off by 
another force, so it behooved me to make fast time back- 
wards, and score as many miles as possible before daylight. 
Keeping, I think, five men with me to cover the rear, I put 
Captain Adams in command of the other men and horses, 
and the Senator, delegate, and Commonwealth's Attorney, 
and two Federal soldiers, whom we brought out, and di- 
rected him to take a certain road which I thought would be 
the safest. 

By sunrise the next morning we were thirty miles from 
Berkeley, but were only about an hour ahead of a cavalry 
force that had been sent out from Romney to cut us off. Go- 
ing into a gorge where I could have held a hundred men at 
bay with hardly a possibility of capture, we rested quietly. 
Late in the evening we moved a few miles farther, and then 
being upon strictly friendly soil and beyond harm's reach, 
we slept the sleep of tired and exhausted men. From there 
by easy marches we got back into our camp, without losing 
a horse or a prisoner, and with horses enough to mount all 
of my dismounted men. 

After this raid two of my sisters, and several young girls 
who were Southern sympathizers, were arrested upon the 
charge that they had been sending me information which 
induced me to make my trip but a gallant Federal officer — 
Colonel David H. Strother, "Porte Crayon," — interposed, 
and they were discharged in a day or two after their arrest. 
The fact is, I had received no information whatever from 
them ; it had been brought to me by scouts. 

I was really sorry we had captured Senator Bechtol and 
Delegate Wheat with the Leaguers. They had been friends 
of my father during his lifetime, and my friends after his 
death until I became a "rebel." 

In my heart I wanted them to make their escape, which 
they could easily have done during the night as we were 
passing rapidly along the mountain roads, with thick under- 
growth on the sides — in fact they had every opportunity; 



92 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

but they could not summon sufficient courage to make the 
attempt, and daylight found them still prisoners in our 
hands, and I was compelled to send them and Finn to Rich- 
mond. 

In a day or two after my raid a Federal cavalry detach- 
ment was sent to Winchester to make arrests in retaliation 
for the arrest of Bechtol, Wheat, and Finn. They arrested 
three of the most prominent and distinguished citizens of 
Virginia — Hon. Robert Y. Conrad, father of Hon. Holmes 
Conrad, Solicitor-General under the cecond Administration 
of President Cleveland; Hon. Philip Williams, father of 
Captain John J. Williams, who at his death a year or two 
ago was Grand Commander of the Grand Camp of the 
United Confederate Veterans ; and Rev. Doctor Boyd, pas- 
tor of the Presbyterian church in the town. If the Federal 
cavalry could have had the State from which to select they 
could not have picked three more prominent, distinguished, 
and beloved citizens than the three they arrested in the town 
of Winchester, with her population not exceeding three 
thousand. How long it was before an exchange of these 
civil prisoners was effected I cannot definitely remember, but 
not very long; however, when the exchange took place we 
got three, while the Federals got only two — Finn, the Com- 
monwealth's Attorney, having died in the Belle Isle Prison 
at Richmond. 

Seven or eight years after peace came I met Senator Bech- 
tol, and I was exceedingly gratified to hear from his own 
lips that he harbored no ill feelings toward me, and simply 
regarded his arrest as the act of a soldier who must obey 
his orders, however unpleasant it may be at times. In his 
conversation he gave me much valuable information in con- 
nection with the formation of the State of West Virginia, 
which would be interesting, as it is not generally known, but 
I must desist. There is, however, one thing he told me 
which I will repeat. 

Wonder had often been expressed at the inclusion of the 
Counties of Jefferson, Berkeley, and Morgan within the 
boundaries of West Virginia — forming what is termed 



PICKET AND SCOUT DUTY 93 

"The Eastern Panhandle." I asked him what was the 
object? 

He replied there were two reasons: First, The general 
Government desired to have the whole line of the Baltimore 
and Ohio Railroad from Harpers Ferry west to the Ohio 
River within the territory and under the jurisdiction of the 
new State. Second, That the legislature thought it well to 
embrace these three counties of the Shenandoah Valley with- 
in the boundaries of West Virginia as a nucleus to attract 
the other counties of the Valley, for in the course of a few 
years after the Union was restored it was thought they 
would rather be in the new than the old State, because of the 
past affiliation of the counties west of the Blue Ridge against 
the eastern counties in matters of legislation and State 
policy, and because the interests of the Valley counties would 
be more closely blended with the interests of the counties 
west than with the interests of the counties east of them. 

I need hardly say that events have shown that the legis- 
lature did not reckon wisely, for all of the Shenandoah 
Valley counties, except the three severed, have been as true 
and loyal to the old Mother as her Southwestern, Piedmont, 
Southside and Tidewater counties. During the more than 
forty years since the new State was ruthlessly carved from 
Virginia's side each of her Valley counties has been as con- 
stant to her "as the Northern Star, of whose true, fixed, 
and resting quality there is no fellow in the firmament." 



CHAPTER XII 

NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT. 

The Battle of New Market— Sigel's Force and What Opposed Him— 
A Complete Rout for the Federals— I Get a Chance to Repay the 
Kindness of a Federal Officer to My Mother— General Hunter on 
the Way up the Valley— The Eighteenth in a Trap— Piedmont 
Lost Through a Gap in Our Lines— Outrageous Bungling— Death of 
General Jones— I am Sent under a Flag of Truce for the Bodies of 
General Jones, Colonel Doyle and Colonel Brown — Treated in an 
Ungentlemanly, Unsoldierlike Manner by General Hunter. 

On May 15, 1864 the Twenty-third regiment was en- 
gaged in the Battle of New Market. A few days prior to 
this engagement we learned that a regiment of Federal 
cavalry was advancing from Luray in the direction of New 
Market, where the Eighteenth and Twenty-third regiments, 
the Sixty-second Regiment of mounted infantry, and 
McClanahan's battery of artillery, all under the command 
of General John D. Imboden, were lying. 

Soon the Federal regiment was discovered on the top of 
the mountain, four miles distant. There they halted for a 
few minutes and then commenced to descend the mountain, 
coming directly toward us. The movement was a great 
surprise to us. We could not understand why this regiment 
should be moving in the very jaws of our brigade. We 
concluded that they certainly were deceived and that they 
thought we were Federal troops; our surmise proved to 
be correct. It was the First New York, and it had been 
ordered to join Sigel at New Market by way of the Page 
Valley. But instead of joining Sigel, they were making 
themselves our game, and we prepared to bag them. The 
Eighteenth and Twenty-first were ordered to saddle up and 
get ready. On the Federal regiment came, in utter ignorance 
of the mistake they were making, and but for information 
they received when they reached the foot of the mountain, 
about a mile from us, they would have ridden right into 



NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT 95 

our camp. They were told by somebody that we were 
Confederates, and they turned north, to the right, taking 
a road leading down Smith's Creek and running along the 
base of the Massanutten Mountain. As soon as we dis- 
covered this change the Twenty-third was ordered to pro- 
ceed down the Pike, cross the fields, and get ahead of them 
if possible, while the Eighteenth was ordered to close in on 
the rear. Away went both regiments in a fast gallop. 
After the Twenty-third had gone about two miles it started 
to cross and get in front of the Federals on the Smith's Creek 
Road, but just as we got in sight of the creek we saw the 
Federal regiment heading in the direction of the Valley 
Pike. We pitched directly at them ; but after firing a few 
shots as we approached them, they wheeled about and struck 
pell-mell, every fellow for himself, to the mountain road, 
pursued hotly by us and the Eighteenth, which had come up 
in their rear. Our chase resulted in our making many cap- 
tures, but more horses than men, as the riders would aban- 
don their horses and rush into the thick undergrowth of the 
mountain and escape. But the captures of men and horses 
necessarily rendered the First New York useless for some 
time — until it could be recruited and remounted. 

On May 14 Sigel advanced to New Market with 6,500 
men and perhaps thirty guns. He was met the next day by 
General John C. Breckenridge with a force of not exceed- 
ing 4,500 men, including the corps of Virginia Military In- 
stitute Cadets, and only about ten pieces of artillery, under 
McLaughlin. Sigel was completely routed, losing, I think, 
six guns and nearly 1,000 prisoners. 

For some time previous to this engagement my mother 
had been writing to me whenever she had an opportunity to 
get a letter through the lines. In her letters she never failed 
to tell me of the kindness and protection she was receiving at 
the hands of Colonel Campbell and Captain Bonacker of the 
Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania Infantry, stationed at Berkeley 
Springs, where she lived, and in her last letter before this 
engagement she requested me to look after these two Fed- 
eral officers in case they were ever captured by the Confed- 



96 1'ORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

erates and I knew of it. The night after the battle, as I sat 
tired and worn out in the light of my camp-fire, my thoughts 
wandered homeward, and I recalled my mother's request. 
Thinking possibly the Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania had been 
with Sigel in the fight of that day, and, if so, it was likely 
Colonel Campbell and Captain Bonacker were with the regi- 
ment, I determined to ride to the field and inquire. So 
mounting my horse I rode to where the hottest fighting had 
occurred, where most of the Federal dead and wounded 
were lying, and burying parties were gathering up the dead 
and our ambulance corps were carrying the wounded to the 
field hospitals. 

I was soon told by a wounded Federal soldier that the 
Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania had been in the fight and on the 
left of the Federal infantry line. I walked down toward 
where the Federal left had rested, and finally, after many 
inquiries, I was told by a wounded Pennsylvanian that he 
had heard Captain Bonacker had been wounded and was still 
on the field. I then commenced my search for Bonacker, the 
friend and protector of my mother and sisters, and in less 
than ten minutes, I think, my efforts were successful. I 
found a captain lying in a depression in the field, his knap- 
sack under his head and a canteen of water at his side. 
Somehow I felt sure he was the man for whom I was search- 
ing, so bending down over him I said, "You are Captain 
Bonacker. Am I not correct?" He replied feebly, "Yes, 
that is my name; why do you ask?" I said. "Captain, I am 
Colonel O'Ferrall, and I intend to take care of you." He 
raised his hand and as I grasped it he said, "You are doing 
just what your mother told me her son would do if occasion 
ever arose and he had the opportunity." 

Directing him to tell the ambulance corps if they reached 
him before I could return that I was his friend and would 
take care of him, I left him to find an ambulance ; this I soon 
secured, and directing the driver to follow me I led him to 
where Bonacker was lying. I did not know where or how 
he was hurt, but I then ascertained that he was shot through 
the right lung. The driver and I raised him as gently as 



NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT 97 

possible and laid him in the ambulance. Tying my horse 
behind, 1 took my seat by his side, lie was very weak from 
the loss of blood and I was afraid he would collapse, but 
while I was hunting for an ambulance I had secured a little 
whiskey or apple brandy, I have forgotten which, and I got 
him to swallow some of it, and this revived him. I ordered 
the driver to drive to the pike, which was near by and 
smooth, and thence to New Market. There I readily ^pro- 
cured excellent quarters for him at the home of Mr. Fred- 
erick Zeiler, and in a very short time he was made as com- 
fortable as his condition would admit. I called a surgeon 
and employed a nurse and remained with him myself until 
the next morning, when I had to return to my regiment. 
The second night I spent with him, and then, as we were or- 
dered to move, I had to bid him good-by, leaving him in 
charge of a nurse by the name of McDaniel, and under the 
care of as skilful a surgeon as any in the Army, Dr. Caspar 
C. Henkel, of a family of surgeons and physicians. When 
I parted with him he was deeply affected, and I was exceed- 
ingly gratified that it had fallen to my lot to show my appre- 
ciation of the kindness he had shown to those who were 
near and dear to me when they were helpless. It was also 
most gratifying to me to care for a brave man who was 
ready to battle with men in the defense of a cause he had 
espoused, but whose manhood spurned the thought of war- 
ring against women and children. Here I shall leave Bon- 
acker, simply saying that in a few weeks he recovered suf- 
ficiently to return to his Pennsylvania home. 

Soon another Federal force of infantry, cavalry, and artil- 
lery, under General David Hunter, started up the Shenan- 
doah Valley. In front, opposing this force, were the Eigh- 
teenth and Twenty-third regiments of cavalry, the Sixty- 
second Regiment of mounted infantry, McNeil's battalion 
of partisan rangers, and McClanahan's battery of artillery, 
all under General Imboden, and this force was not strong 
enougrh to do more than hold Hunter in check and retard 
him until additional troops could arrive. With admirable 
judgment and skill General Imboden performed this work. 
7 



y8 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

On the evening of June 4 Hunter had succeeded in push- 
ing his way to Mount Meridian, in the vicinity of Weyer's 
Cave, Augusta County. During the night of the 4th General 
William E. Jones, the old commander of the famous Ashby 
brigade, arrived at the village of New Hope, not far from 
Mount Meridian. He brought with him Vaughan's Tennes- 
see brigade, and some odds and ends of different regiments, 
which had been hastily gathered together, and a regiment of 
reserves or home guards. 

On the morning of the 5th Hunter sent forward his caval- 
ry, which was met by our Eighteenth Regiment without sup- 
port, and in consequence it was soon overwhelmed, and be- 
ing caught in a lane with a high and strong fence on either 
side, with no opportunity to rally or form a line, it re- 
treated in bad order, and but for the support of the Twenty- 
third and a company of mounted reserves under the com- 
mand of Captain John N. Opie, a most gallant officer and 
now a Virginia State Senator, which came up just in the 
nick of time, the Eighteenth would have suffered very se- 
verely, for the firing upon its rear and flanks was terrific. 
As it' was the loss was considerable, and General Imboden, 
who had gone to the front with the regiment, barely escaped 
capture. 

The Twenty-third and Opie's company, quickly forming 
in a field, charged the Federal cavalry and drove them back. 
In the meantime General Jones was selecting his ground for 
the battle and forming his line. His infantry line, crescent 
shape, extended from the Mount Meridian Road westward 
to the North River: his mounted force was stationed east 
of the road, but through the failure of some one to obey 
General Jones's order a wide opening was left between the 
infantry and cavalry lines. Our infantry built rail piles and 
threw up such other breastworks as the material and means 
at their command would permit. Hunter advanced his in- 
fantry cautiously, and about two o'clock in the afternoon 
made his attack on our infantry line; he was repulsed ; then 
he tried it a second, third, fourth, and perhaps a fifth time, 
and each time was repulsed ; then came a lull, and suddenly 



NEW MARKET AXD PIEDMONT 99 

a column of infantry was seen moving double-quick up a 
depression in a field, which concealed them from our in- 
fantry, but not from our cavalry, in the direction of the 
opening in our line which I have mentioned. They had dis- 
covered the break or opening, and were rushing to take ad- 
vantage of it. Our cavalrymen understood their purpose. 
which was to strike our infantry on the flank. 

Every cavalryman, looking upon this movement of the en- 
emy from elevated ground, was in a state of excitement, and 
awaited breathlessly for orders, which he expected momen- 
tarily. In our immediate front there was no enemy and we 
had done no fighting since the morning. No orders came. 
?nd there we sat on our horses and saw the enemy reach 
the opening and half of them pass through and beyond it. 
then suddenly wheel to the right, from column into line, and 
rush upon the flank of our infantry line and lap around it; 
at the same time, we saw Hunter's line advance in front. 
We heard the terrific rattle of musketry, which betokened 
the death grapple of the two sides, and saw the dense smoke 
arising, telling the tale of gore reddening soil that had never 
before drank in human blood. The struggle was not long. 
About five o'clock that clear and beautiful June afternoon 
we had lost a battle which ought to have been won, and 
would have been but for two mistakes — first, in leaving the 
opening; second, in failing to order the cavalry to attack 
the column as it moved up the depression in the field. 

There was most outrageous bungling at Piedmont. 
I am sure General Jones never intended to leave a gap in his 
line ; I am sure somebody failed to obey his orders. Some- 
body was derelict in the discharge of his duty, but who the 
recreant was I know not. 

It is the duty of an officer to assume responsibilities, and 
when his judgment tells him unquestionably that a tiling 
should be done, and if not done direful will be the conse- 
quences, if he is in a position he should do it and take the 
chances of being cashiered. If such an officer had been in 
command of the right wing of our line at New Hope he 
would have attacked that Federal column if it had cost him 



lOO FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

his commission and reduced him to the ranks. It is always 
disagreeable to me to criticise a fellow-officer, condemn him 
for any act of commission or omission, but truth forces me 
in this instance to lay blame at the door of General Vaughan 
for our defeat at New Hope. He ranked General Imboden, 
and sat quietly on his horse, awaiting orders, in spite of Im- 
boden's persistent desire and the eagerness of the men to 
move upon the enemy. General Vaughan did not lack per- 
sonal courage, and he would have led his men anywhere 
without wavering for an instant if he had been ordered, but 
his judgment must have taught him what orders he 
should have had and that his failure to receive them was the 
result of a mistake, oversight, inability, or want of knowl- 
edge, and he should have acted upon his own judgment and 
responsibility. If he had done this, instead of criticism and 
blame, he would have been the recipient of praises and plau- 
dits and become the hero of the occasion. 

For some minutes after the flank attack was made our 
men stood their ground manfully and displayed supreme 
courage; but soon they were subjected to a fire not only 
upon their flank, but from the front and rear by a vastly su- 
perior force. They then began to waver, and General Jones, 
who had been on the line all the time, and Colonel Doyle and 
Colonel Brown, who were in command of regiments at the 
point of attack, were all killed. Seeing these officers fall, 
our line gave way, and retreated toward the river, pursued 
by the Federals, and as retreating men ran down the line, 
they were joined by others, and soon the whole Confederate 
infantry was in full retreat toward the river, and upon its 
banks many were captured. When our line broke all the 
wagons of Hunter's army had been turned around and he 
was ready to retreat. But for the success of the flank move- 
ment, the result of inexcusable mistakes, we would have 
scored a victory with a meagre force, hastily collected, over 
a much larger force, well disciplined and thoroughly 
equipped. 

After General Jones fell. General Vaughan assumed com- 
mand. Directing me to remain at New Hope with two 



NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT IOl 

squadrons as long as I could, not later than nightfall, and 
then fall back and join the army at Fisherville, he retired 
from the field without trouble. I remained at New Hope as 
ordered, was not disturbed by the enemy, and rode into camp 
at Fisherville about midnight. 

The next morning I was summoned to General Vaugh- 
an's headquarters. Upon reporting to him he told me that 
he intended to retire to Rock Fish Gap in the Blue Ridge, 
near Waynesboro; that he wanted me to take two ambu- 
lances and a small squad and go on down the road over 
which I had come the night before, until I met Hunter's ad- 
vance, and then raising a flag of truce, present a communi- 
cation addressed by him to General Hunter, asking for the 
delivery to me of the bodies of General Jones, Colonel 
Doyle, and Colonel Brown, who as I have said had been 
killed on the day before. He then remarked significantly 
that I need not be particular about not holding them at a 
standstill under my flag of truce as long as possible; inti- 
mating that he needed time to get into the mountain. 

With two ambulances and a squad of three men I started 
on my mission with my communication in my pocket. Six 
miles below Fisherville, if I remember the distance correctly, 
is Mowery's Hill. As I reached the top of it I saw the Fed- 
eral cavalry advance a short distance beyond the Mowery 
homestead at the base of the hill. Instantly I ran up my 
white flag, and quickening my pace rode down the hill with 
my men. My approach was seen by the Federal officer, and 
with three or four men he advanced, and we met right at 
Mowery's house, under some trees by a stream of clear, 
cold water from his dairy, or spring-house, as it was called, 
that ran across the road. We saluted and introduced each 
other. He was Major Charles G. Otis, of the Twenty-first 
New York Cavalry. 

As I had ridden along on my way from Fisherville I had 
been endeavoring to devise some scheme to hold the advance 
as long as possible, and had laid out a plan in my head. 
Whether it would work I did not of course know. 



102 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

After the salutation and introduction I said : "Major, I 
am the bearer of a communication from General Vaughan, 
commanding the Confederate forces, to General Hunter, 
commanding the Federal forces. I desire to present it to 
General Hunter in person. Will you please communicate 
my desire to General Hunter?" He replied instantly, "Why 
certainly. Colonel." 

So writing a note he called a courier and dispatched 
him with the note, with orders "to be quick." Very natur- 
ally the battle of the day before came up and we discussed 
it. Of course I admitted it was a Union victory, and ex- 
plained how I thought it occurred. He was not disposed 
to exult at all. I discovered directly that he was a gentle- 
man of the most refined feelings, and ever cautious not to 
wound unnecessarily the feelings of another, even though 
he might be an enemy — "a Johnnie Reb." He admitted to 
me that in all of Hunter's front attacks the Federals had 
been badly worsted, and that Hunter was preparing to with- 
draw and retire when he learned of the gap in our lines ; that 
he then determined to try the movement which I have de- 
scribed, and fortunately for them it was successful, and 
won the fight for them; that its success was a matter of 
wonderment with him and the Federal officers generally, 
who knew of the position and proximity of our cavalry. 
We continued to chat ; the day was very warm, and we were 
enjoying the shade from the sun, and the atmosphere cooled 
and freshened by the pearly brook that rippled by us. Sud- 
denly an elderly gentleman, splendidly mounted, rode rap- 
idly down the hill. Stopping where we were sitting he 

commenced to abuse in the most vigorous style "the d 

Yankees," and insisting that "the last one of these infernal 
rascals should be taken and strung up to that limb," point- 
ing to a large limb that extended above us over the road. 

As soon as I could I checked the old man by saying to 
him, "You must not talk that way; you should not abuse 
prisoners — men who are helpless. You evidently think these 
men are prisoners, but they are not — we are all here under a 
flag of truce." When he learned the men in blue were not 



NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT IO3 

prisoners I never saw such a change come over a man ; his 
face grew ashy pale and he seemed to become limp and 
almost to reel in his saddle, but in a second he recovered, and 
wheeling his horse, and with "Good-day, gentlemen," he put 
spurs to his fine, fleet-footed animal and sailed away in the 
direction he had come, with his coat-tails standing straight 
out behind him. 

Who was this man? This inquiry will come to you men- 
tally at once. I will tell you. The farm upon which stood 
the fine old mansion near by, from which the crystal stream 
coursing at our side flowed, was one of the finest in that 
section, more famous than any other section of Virginia 
for its fine farms and homes, and belonged to George \V. 
Mowery. He cultivated it, and raised short-horned cattle, 
splendid strains of horses, and abundant crops of wheat and 
all the cereals, clover, timothy and blue grass, and he lived 
in the country mansion not a stone's throw from us. 

The man who was so abusive of the Yankees and wanted 
to hang those who were with me was George \V. Mowery 
himself. He thought Otis and his men were prisoners, and 
when he learned his mistake he feared that his home was 
doomed, and fearing that he might be identified and his 
name disclosed, he determined to lose no time in getting 
away. He did not know me or any Confederate with me; 
I, however, knew him, but I had sufficient presence of mind 
not to call his name or to show in any way that I knew him. 

As he was taking his rapid departure from us, and Otis 
and I were watching with interest the beautiful and grace- 
ful strides of his horse under the pressure of spur, Otis said 
with a jolly laugh : "That old fellow evidently has no use 
for us Yankees. There would not be many of us if he 
could have his way." 

Later in the day the whole Federal army passed his 
house, and he suffered no material damage. If Hunter had 
known that its owner had expressed such sentiments as I 
have related, before the day closed lone chimneys would 
have stood as sentinels over the charred ruins of Mowery's 
house. 



IU4 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

It was still some time after this episode before Otis's cour- 
ier returned — he was gone, I think, at least an hour and a 
half. He brought this reply : "General Hunter declines to 
see the rebel officer. He must send forward his communica- 
tion at once, or return to his lines." I said : "Major, this is 
discourteous and unsoldier-like treatment. I cannot see 
why he declines to see me. I believe I will retain my com- 
munication and return to my lines." Otis said : "Hold on. 
I will try him again." He wrote another note and sent the 
same courier with it, but on a fresh horse. 

The courier's stay was very little shorter than when he 
first went in search of the Federal general. When he re- 
turned he handed Major Otis a paper, which he immediately 
delivered to me. It was the communication I had sent to 
General Hunter. On the back of it were written these 
words : 

The rebels General Jones, and Colonels Brown and Doyle, are dead, 
and have been decently buried. 

All the rebel dead have been decently buried and the wounded are 
being well cared for. The bearer of this communication must return 
to his lines forthwith. 

David Hunter, 
Maj. Genl. Commanding U. S. Forces. 

This ungentlemanly, unsoldierlike, and unfeeling reply of 
General David Hunter to General Vaughan's communica- 
tion was simply in keeping with the character of the man, 
and of which I shall write later. 

Upon the receipt of this reply, shaking hands with Major 
Otis and thanking him for his courtesy and soldier-like treat- 
ment, I directed my ambulance drivers to turn about, and 
with them and my squad I took up my ride to Rock Fish 
Gap, arriving some time before dark. 

I had been very much attracted by Otis during the sev- 
eral hours I had been with him under the flag of truce. As 
Hunter was advancing up the Valley Turnpike we had ob- 
served a Federal cavalry officer mounted on a sorrel horse 
with a white face, almost always in front, conspicuous by 
his activity, frequently leading charges, and in every way 



NEW MARKET AND PIEDMONT IO5 

displaying courage and dash. Otis was riding a horse when 
I met him which answered the description of the officer's 
horse I have just mentioned, and upon inquiry I ascer- 
tained that it was he who had been so constantly at the head 
and front of Hunter's army, and his bearing then when balls 
were flying and his bearing under the flag of truce had been 
such as to arouse my admiration and respect for him. 

Years after peace came to our land and the sections were 
reunited, and I had been a member of Congress for several 
years, in mv mail one morning was a letter from a friend 
and war comrade of Otis, addressed to me, stating that the 
Major's friends were applying for one of the medals the 
U. S. Government was issuing to officers, and to privates 
too, I think, for marked courage and distinguished 
bearing "in the War between the States" — he did not say 
"the War of the Rebellion" ; that Otis had told his friends 
he had met me in the strife, and that I knew something 
about him as a soldier, and he and his friends would be 
greatly pleased if I could, consistently with my views, write 
a letter in his behalf. 

It is needless for me to say that I wrote the letter, and 
whether it had any weight or not with the authorities I can- 
not say, but to my pleasure one of the medals was issued to 
Otis. I received a beautiful letter from him, full of frater- 
nal feeling and rejoicing that the day of reconciliation had 
arrived. He is now dead, and only a few months ago his 
daughter wrote me that she was engaged in preparing the 
life of her father and requested me to write my impressions 
of him for her book. This I have not done as yet, but I 
shall not delay it much longer. 



CHAPTER XIII 

LYNCHBURG EARLY'S RAID TO WASHINGTON AND RETURN. 

Hunter's Vandal Hand— We Pass Through Lynchburg— Hunter Declines 
Battle— "Virginia 'Pawsing' "—The End of Hunter's Expedition to 
Lynchburg— Hunter a Failure as a Soldier and Covered with 
Ignominy— Early Defeats Lew Wallace at Monocacy and Marches 
on to Washington — A Surprise to the Federal Authorities— Our 
Retrograde March — Marching and Countermarching— The Fear the 
Authorities at Washington had of Early— Sheridan Put in Com- 
mand to Cope with Early. 

Hunter moved to Staunton, and thence to Lexington, 
where his vandal hand burned to ashes the Virginia Mili- 
tary Institute, whose corps of cadets, 240 strong, had im- 
mortalized itself at New Market three weeks before. The 
home of ex-Governor Letcher was also laid in ashes. From 
Lexington he passed on to the vicinity of Lynchburg, by 
way of the Peaks of Otter, and there he reached the zenith 
of his fame — if his defeat of Jones and his destruction of the 
Virginia Military Institute and ex-Governor Letcher's home 
could, in the estimation of any one, give him fame. 

While Hunter was moving from Staunton to Lynchburg, 
our forces that had confronted him at New Market moved 
across the Blue Ridge and on to Lynchburg, arriving on 
the 17th, finding General Early in command of the troops. 

We passed directly through Lynchburg and took the Sa- 
lem Road and commenced to throw up a line of defenses, 
under the order of General Early. We had then Wharton's 
division of infantry, King's artillery, Jackson's, Imboden's, 
and McCausland's brigades, and some other troops. On the 
f8th Rode's division arrived. 

My regiment, the Twenty-third, was sent forward, and 
at the Stone Church, about five miles westward, we encoun- 
tered Hunter's advance — strong in numbers. The Twenty- 
third was thrown forward as skirmishers, and I was put in 
command. We soon became engaged with the Federal line 



LYNCHBURG EARI^S RAID TO WASHINGTON IO7 

of skirmishers, but we succeeded in holding them well, and 
at dusk they had made comparatively little progress. Gen- 
eral Early had not been idle. Reinforced by Rode's divis- 
ion — brought, I think, by rail from Charlottesville — he 
formed his line some three miles west of the city's limits. 
We laid down that night believing that the next day would 
bring a battle, in the result of which we had no doubt. We 
had an abiding faith in the ability of "Old Jube," as Gen- 
eral Early was called by his men, to thresh Hunter most 
soundly. Our men's hearts were buoyant, and they wanted 
a chance to chastise the burner of the Virginia Military In- 
stitute — Virginia's pride — and the house of Governor 
Letcher, who was honored and beloved the State over. 

But Hunter declined battle, and retreated as quietly as 
possible, and at day-dawn he had put some miles between 
himself and Early, but the Confederates pursued in hot 
haste. The day was scorching hot and the trail was dusty. 
Near Liberty we caught up with the enemy's rear. My reg- 
iment was in the attacking line, dismounted and moving 
through a field in front of a stone fence, behind which the 
enemy was posted. The balls were whistling lively around 
our heads and we were beginning to suffer. 

I had in my line a fine fellow, William Ashby, — familiar- 
ly called "Bill Ashby," a cousin of General Ashby, — who 
was a member of my old company in the Twelfth Cavalry. 
and being away from his company on sick leave he joined 
me at Lynchburg. He had a short leg, caused by an injury 
when a boy. As I was riding along the line, the men mov- 
ing slowly across the field, I heard some one call me from 
behind; turning my horse I rode back, inquiring, "Who 
called me?" Directlv one of the men replied. "Bill Ashby 
called you; there he is" — pointing to him. I said, "Bill, 
what do you want?" 

Just then his short leg went down into a sink hole, and as 
he pulled it out, balls coming thick and fast, he replied, 
"Colonel, I only wanted to ask you if you didn't think Vir- 
ginia was rather hasty in going into this thing?" While T 
was somewhat irritated, the remark was so ludicrous, and 



io 8 FORTY YEARS 01' ACTIVE SERVICE 

showed such humor even in face of the greatest danger, it 
drew a smile and I rode off, making no reply. 

He told me afterwards that as he was marching toward 
the stone fence, thinking of the hardships through which 
the people of Virginia had been passing for more than three 
years, he recalled a picture he saw when the Virginia Con- 
vention was deliberating upon the question of secession. 
The picture represented the United States or Federal Union 
as an immense cat, and the Southern States as her kittens. 
South Carolina, Mississippi, Alabama and other Southern 
States, but not Virginia, had deserted the old mother and 
were scampering away from her. Virginia had not gone, 
the old cat still had her paw on her; but she was twisting 
and squirming to get out from under the paw, and the old 
cat was saying, "Not too hasty, Virginia." I recalled the 
picture myself; it was extensively circulated by conservative 
men, who favored slow and cautious action upon Virginia's 
part — many believing she should fight for her rights in the 
Union under the Union flag, rather than secede. It was in- 
tended to impress the convention with the importance of 
caution and due deliberation. The title of the picture I re- 
call well. It was "Virginia Pawsing." 

The enemy did not hold their line along the stone fence. 
They were soon forced to retire, and from there to Salem 
the pursuit was so warm and vigorous that hardly any other 
attempt was made to resist us. 

At Salem they took the road to Buford's Gap, hoping to 
escape Early's men, wd:o were like blood-hounds on their 
tracks; but before they could fairly enter it, Imboden was 
upon their rear and McCausland struck them on their flank, 
where we captured many wagons, several guns, and some 
prisoners. The pursuit was continued to New Castle, but no 
farther. By this time Hunter's army had become nothing 
but a demoralized and disorganized body, all fleeing through 
the mountains, without a commander, for Hunter had fled, 
without orders, and no objective point in view. 

Thus ended Hunter's expedition to Lynchburg. He was 
of Virginia descent, and when he made his entrance into 



LYNCHBURG — KARLY'S RAID TO WASHINGTON IO9 

the State he seemed determined to wreak his vengeance 
upon his own close kin, who were Confederates in their 
sentiments or sympathies. 

In Ctiarlestown, Jefferson County, lived Andrew Hunter, 
a distinguished lawyer, honored citizen, and courtly gentle- 
man, far advanced in years. He had a home in the suburbs 
of the town, where he had dispensed his hospitality with 
a lavish hand. He was a man without an enemy. This 
Federal general, with the same blood coursing in his veins 
as flowed in the veins of Andrew Hunter, signalized his 
abhorrence of a rebel by ordering the torch to be applied to 
the home that had long sheltered his aged and venerable 
cousin, and it was devoured by the flames. The home of 
two other cousins met with a like fate for no other reason 
than that they were "rebels." 

I think this army, with which he fled through the moun- 
tains to the Kanawha, was the last he ever commanded. 
He had proved himself an utter failure as a soldier, and 
bore the ignominy of being the wanton destroyer of the 
homes of his own kith and kin, the Virginia Military In- 
stitute, and the residence of ex-Governor Letcher, and 
thus he lived, with none so low as to do him reverence, until 
he died in the city of Washington a few years ago. 

General Early, after Hunter's retreat, marched his army 
leisurely down the Shenandoah Valley. His troops, stirred 
by the memories of their great achievement in this far-famed 
Valley under Stonewall Jackson, cheered lustily as they 
passed through, Harrisonburg, New Market, Edenburg, 
Woodstock, Strasburg, Middletown, Newtown, and 
glorious Winchester. He was on his march to Washington, 
the Federal Capital. 

Crossing the Potomac at various points, he moved on and 
occupied the city of Frederick, and on the 9th of July he 
met and defeated General Lew Wallace, after a bloody 
fight at Monocacy, who retreated toward Baltimore. Early 
destroyed the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad bridge, a strong 
structure that spanned the Monocacy. and then continued 
his inarch to Washington, passing through Urbana, Gaith- 



I IO FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

ersburg and Rockville. At the latter place he encamped on 
the night of the ioth. 

On the ioth the march was resumed to Silver Spring, on 
the Seventh-street Road. At this point my regiment, with 
other cavalry, was in front, and we met a force of Federal 
cavalry and infantry and drove them without difficulty into 
the fortifications that surrounded the city, and I believe we 
could have ridden into the works, but we were ordered to 
halt. 

Our appearance in the vicinity of the very gates of the 
Federal Capital was a surprise to the Federal authorities, 
and aroused them to the utmost activity. They were greatly 
alarmed, and every effort was put forth to rush troops to 
the city and man the fortifications, and the effort was suc- 
cessful. We spent the 12th in front of Washington, and 
some heavy skirmishing occurred on part of our line. We 
could see the works filling up, and the force increasing every 
hour during the day. As soon as dark came, General Early 
having learned that an army much larger than his own had 
been concentrated, and knowing that the waters of the Po- 
tomac were in his rear, determined to fall back, and his 
whole army was soon moving in the darkness in the direc- 
tion of Rockville. Daylight broke upon us as we reached 
this town, we continuing our march until midday. Then 
our tired and worn men and horses were allowed to halt and 
rest until dark came again. Then we proceeded as rapidly 
as conditions would permit on our retrograde march, pass- 
ing through Poolesville, where two years before I was 
wounded and my life saved, as I believe, by the gallant Fig- 
gatt, of whose chivalrous deed I have spoken. We reached 
the banks of the Potomac a little before or after midnight. 
Here the troops, almost exhausted, dropped in their tracks, 
and were soon sound asleep. When the first faint streak of 
light appeared in the eastern sky the army was aroused, and 
the infantry and artillery crossing at White's Ford and the 
cavalry at Conrad's Ferry, we were again in Dixie. It must 
not be imagined the enemy had given us no trouble on the 
route from Washington to the Potomac. On the contrary. 



LYNCHBURG — EARLY'S RAID TO WASHINGTON III 

the enemy's cavalry frequently attacked our rear, but they 
were always repulsed. 

We laid in camp until the 16th, I think, the enemy throw- 
ing some shells from the Maryland side, and then we broke 
camp and moved on in the direction of Snicker's Gap in 
the Blue Ridge; part passed through it and camped in the 
Valley, the rest on the eastern and western slopes of the 
mountain. Our wagon-train and prisoners were sent 
through Ashby's Gap. An attack was made on the train 
by troops sent from Harpers Ferry, and it suffered some. 

In a day or two, perhaps the 17th, our entire army had 
pitched camp on the west side of the Shenandoah in the 
neighborhood of Castleman's Ferry. The cavalry brigades 
were scattered around, and had some fighting with the ene- 
my's cavalry at Snicker's Gap in the Blue Ridge, and other 
points, for several days following. I was a participant in 
much of this fighting, and as was always the case amusing 
things were said and done, regardless of the missiles of 
death or dangerous surroundings. ' I remember while the 
Twenty-third was warmly engaged at Berry's Ferry, a rab- 
bit, frightened almost to death, started across the field. A 
member of the regiment no doubt recalling the remark of 
Governor Vance of North Carolina, upon seeing the rabbit 
streaking for the rear when a battle was raging, "That's 
right; run, Molly Cotton-tail, run. If I hadn't any more 
at stake than you have, I would run like the mischief too," 
exclaimed in loud voice, "Git up and git, Mr. Rabbit. I 
would like to go with you, but the reputation of Betsy and 
the babies is at stake. If I was to run Betsy would never 
let me put my arm around her again or dance the brats on 
my knee." 

There was much marching and countermarching, ad- 
vancing and falling back by both armies, from that time un- 
til early in August, when we learned that a large Federal 
force was being concentrated at Harpers Ferry and Maior- 
General Philip H. Sheridan had assumed command of it. 

The campaign of Early and Sheridan that followed will 
ever occupy a unique place in the history of the War between 



112 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

the States. General Early had fought greater odds than 
Jackson; he displayed judgment and tact in all his move- 
ments. He had been active, bold and aggressive. He had 
for months kept the enemy confused and agitated; they 
seemed to be unable to understand what his purposes were 
and had to watch him closely, and this required a large 
force, for with a small force, or one not greatly in excess of 
his own, Early could make incursions into Maryland and 
even Pennsylvania, any time, and return before he could 
be seriously hurt. 

The fear the Federal authorities had of Early compelled 
them to call a considerable force from Lee's front, and in- 
duced them finally to pit one of their best and most aggres- 
sive and stubborn fighters against him. Early, in less than 
two months, had accomplished much, in my opinion almost 
wonders, with his little army. He had marched hundreds 
of miles, fought two important battles, — winning a victory 
in each, — besides many minor engagements, some of them 
of note. He had threatened the Federal Capital, and when 
confronted by an overwhelming force he had retreated in 
the most perfect order, without the loss of a gun or a wagon, 
with a river in his rear. He had relieved General Lee of 
the strain on his line. He may have made some mistakes 
later, but when discussing them his prior achievements, 
running back over three years, should not be forgotten. 
Mistakes ! What general of the war did not make mistakes ? 
They may not have been observed, but turn the search-light 
of truth upon their records, and they will be discovered. 
The great and unequaled Lee took upon himself the blame 
for the defeat at Gettysburg. I think he was too generous 
and magnanimous. For that defeat I would not lay a feath- 
er's weight of blame upon his splendid shoulders. He was 
criticised, sometimes harshly, for the West Virginia cam- 
paign in the earlv part of the war. Carpet-knights and 
street-corner generals were numerous, and as they were 
doing no fighting and had plenty of time to give vent to 
their ideas of the manner the war was being conducted, and 
how certain battles had been fought, they were wise in their 



LYNCHBURG — EARLY S RAID TO WASHINGTON II3 

own conceit, and nothing suited them; they would have 
done so much better if they had been clothed with authority 
or had been in command. Then we had some Confederate 
officers who were fond of carping and fault-finding. If a 
battle was lost it was by bad management; if it was won, 
the victory ought to have been greater, and so on. Early's 
Lynchburg and Washington campaigns, the ability and 
strategy he displayed, his boldness, quickness, and original- 
ity will ever be worthy of the study of any reader interested 
in military history. 

While there was intense activity in the lower Valley, and 
constant fighting, particularly by the cavalry, no engage- 
ment rising to the dignity of a real battle occurred until the 
19th of September, when Early and Sheridan "locked 
horns" at Winchester. 



8 



CHAPTER XIV 

BATTLES OP WINCHESTER AND ElSHER'S HIEE. 

Events Leading up to Battle of Winchester — The Battle — Losses of 
Both Sides Heavy — Death of Major-General Rodes — An Amusing 
Incident with a Pathetic Sequel — Battle of Fisher's Hill — Our Fight 
Until 5 o'clock in the Evening — Crook's Charge on Our Left Flank 
the Turning Point — I am Wounded by a Fragment of Shell — 
Refuse to Have my Leg Taken off — I Reach New Market — 
Compelled to Make a Move — Another Move — I go to Mississippi 
to Recuperate — "Love at First Sight," Followed by My Marriage. 

On the 17th Gordon's and Rode's divisions and a cavalry 
brigade — Jackson's, I think — moved down the Martinsburg 
Turnpike; on the 18th Gordon's division moved on to Mar- 
tinsburg, and there they burned the bridges of the Baltimore 
and Ohio Railroad, returning to Bunker Hill in the after- 
noon. About sunset I was ordered on picket for the night 
on the Martinsburg Pike at Darkesville. I met General 
Gordon as he was moving back, and he directed me to re- 
port any movement of the enemy to him at Bunker Hill, 
where he would encamp. 

The Federal cavalry in our front was astir all night, and 
several times my men were in their saddles and in line, an- 
ticipating an attack, but not a shot was fired. Just about 
sunrise, however, the whole Federal force at Martinsburg, 
mostly cavalry, commenced to advance, and in a short time 
my skirmishers were engaged with theirs. I sent a courier 
to inform General Gordon of the movement. The courier 
got back to me in about an hour and reported to me that 
Gordon had fallen back during the night; in the meantime 
the enemy's cavalry had been forcing me back, and as I 
knew of no Confederate soldiers within miles of me, I began 
to think that as soon as the Federals found I had no support 
they would charge me, and this would mean the capture of 
my men, on weak and broken-down horses, of which there 
were many. My men behaved splendidly, and retired in the 



BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND FISHER'S HILE I I 5 

most perfect order, giving the advancing skirmishers shot 
for shot, doing them at least as much injury as they were 
receiving themselves. 

When I reached Bunker Hill, much to my relief I found 
Col. George H. Smith with his Sixty-second Regiment of 
mounted infantry — a colonel without a superior and a regi- 
ment that had never been known to waver under the hottest 
fire. He continued me in command of the skirmish line, 
while he kept his regiment in good supporting distance. I 
cannot remember how far the morning had advanced when 
we arrived at Bunker Hill ; it was not later than 9 o'clock, 
however, I think, yet we had been hearing the roar of artil- 
lery and the rattle of musketry for at least two hours in our 
rear, and we knew from the sound that it was the opening 
of no ordinary engagement — it was the beginning of a 
battle. 

We held the enemy in our front pretty well in 
check; they seemed to be acting cautiously. When we 
reached the Carter House, four miles from Winchester, 
we found McCausland's cavalry brigade heavily engaged 
on our right with an overwhelming cavalry force. In 
a few minutes McCausland was routed and retreated 
toward us. Colonel Smith formed the Twenty-third 
and Sixty-second into line, wheeled them to the right, 
and checked the pursuing Federal cavalry and gave 
McCausland time to rally and form a portion of his 
brigade. But in the briefest time the Federal cavalry, in a 
compact mass and powerful in numbers, rushed upon us, 
and drove us rapidly and in disorder back upon the left 
flank of Early's infantry line. The effect was very serious 
upon our army, which had been contending with superb her- 
oism from early morning until then about 5 o'clock in the 
evening against a vastly superior force. Sheridan had 
massed his cavalry on the left flank of Early's army, and 
near sundown the whole of Early's line wavered under the 
heavy force, then gave way — some parts of it in much con- 
fusion and other parts calmly and orderly. Passing through 
true and patriotic old Winchester, our army proceeded as far 



I 1 6 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

as Kernstown, where it encamped late in the night and slept 
without molestation. Sheridan's heavy cavalry corps had 
won the day. It numbered 10,000 well-mounted and mag- 
nificently-equipped men and had been handled with great 
ability and skill. Early's cavalry was entirely too weak to 
cope with it; it did well, and every brigade, regiment, and 
squadron did its duty, and all in the power of men to do, 
but they could not successfully resist the onslaught. 

Our loss, as well as the enemy's, was heavy. Among our 
killed was the intrepid Major-General Rodes, whose name 
was resounding throughout the Army of Northern Virginia 
and fast becoming a household word in the homes of 
Virginia, upon whose soil he was born and reared. My reg- 
iment had its full quota of casualties. Its sergeant-major, 
Trent Traylor, a splendid young Alabamian, fell mortally 
wounded at the Yellow House, on the Martinsburg Turn- 
pike, while on the skirmish line. He was a dashing caval- 
ryman, ever ready for duty in camp and on the march, on 
picket, in the charge, or on the standing firing-line. I would 
be glad to pay tribute to others of the Twenty-third who 
fell at their posts, but it would require more space than I 
have at my command. 

In connection with the battle of Winchester I must put in 
these reminiscences an amusing occurrence which was fol- 
lowed by a story most pathetic. I have just referred to the 
death of my sergeant-major. Two or three days before 
this battle I invited this young nobleman, for such he was 
in truth, to go with me to visit two charming young ladies 
who lived in the neighborhood of our camp. He accepted 
the invitation, and when the appointed evening came we pre- 
pared ourselves as best we could and rode to the fine old 
country home. The young ladies were looking their pret- 
tiest, and it was not long before I could see that one of them 
had captured Trent, and could feel that I was fast surren- 
dering to the other. After tea we returned to the parlor, 
and soon the strains of the piano and guitar, and the sweet 
voices of the young ladies, were adding fuel to the flames in 
the breasts of both of us. Time flew, minutes passed like 



BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND ElSHER'S HILI, 11/ 

seconds, and two hours after tea glided by so swiftly that 
not a thought of leaving had entered our minds. Suddenly 
the father came into the parlor, and after conversing for a 
few minutes he said, "Gentlemen, you will of course spend 
the night with us." We thanked him and said no, that wo 
must return to camp. He bade us good-night and left the 
parlor. We looked at our watches, and it was only a few- 
minutes after nine o'clock. We settled ourselves deeper in 
our seats with the thought of at least another hour, perhaps 
two, of ecstasy — but we knew not what was just ahead of 
us. Directly the parlor door opened and in walked the 
father again. We had supposed he had retired for the 
night. He said, "Gentlemen, we are Presbyterians here; 
our bed time is nine o'clock and we must close up the house ; 
you had better spend the night." We then realized how dull 
we had been not to take the hint before, but we had not. We 
again thanked him and apologized for staying so long and 
forcing him to break his rule for retiring. He said, "That's 
all right ; come and see us again ; we will always be glad to 
see you," and left the parlor. 

The young ladies were embarrassed, assured us that their 
father had made no exception of us, and reproached them- 
selves for not letting us know of the inexorable rule. 

We took our departure immediately, the ladies declaring 
that they had enjoyed the evening, and inviting us to call 
again. Neither Trent nor I, after mounting our horses, 
spoke a word until we had ridden a hundred yards or more, 
then he said: "Colonel, didn't that beat thunder. I was 
never so pleased in my life as I was with Miss L., and Miss 
N. was just charming, and to be cut off at nine o'clock is 
too bad. Why, the chickens hadn't more than gone to sleep. 
Didn't Mr. B. say that they were Presbyterians?" T said. 
"Yes." "Well, is that a regular Presbyterian rule? If it is. 
I would like to know what time a fellow has to court a 
Presbyterian girl. He must do it in daylight, or put in his 
licks mighty fast at night. 

Poor Trent was killed a day or two after this visit, at the 
Yellow House, about two miles from Mr. B.'s. I have never 



Il8 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

seen the ladies since, but that visit saved Trent from a burial 
on the field — a trench burial, a burial with the countless "un- 
known." Hearing that he had been killed, Misses L. and N. 
went in search of his body. They found it and had it in- 
terred in a neighborhood church-yard, and planted roses 
upon his grave and cared for it until some time after the 
war was over, when his remains were disinterred and taken 
to his distant Southern home, and there laid to rest in the 
soil of his native State. 

On the 20th General Early fell back to Fisher's Hill, and 
instantly commenced his preparations to hold it by throwing 
up breastworks, and continued until the 22nd, when Early 
and Sheridan again met in the Battle of Fisher's Hill. 

The fight opened about ten o'clock in the morning, and 
was fierce and hot, the Confederates holding their ground 
stubbornly and repulsing every assault, until about five 
o'clock in the evening, when our left, which was weak, was 
assaulted by Crook's corps of infantry, which, under cover 
of the trees and undergrowth on the eastern side of the Lit- 
tle North Mountain, secured a position on the mountain 
slope, and like an avalanche swept down upon our left flank, 
driving our men from their rifle-pits and then along down 
the line. At the same time a vigorous advance from the 
front was made, and soon our entire army was in full and 
confused retreat, and Sheridan by weight of numbers, and 
I must admit skill, had scored a second victory over Early 
with his much inferior army in numbers, though handled 
with Early's usual skill. But for the darkness that soon 
came upon the scene the result of our defeat would have been 
almost destruction to our army. 

My position in this battle was on our extreme left. . On 
the evening of the 20th I was called from my regiment and 
put in command of all the dismounted cavalry of our army, 
numbering about three hundred men. During the night I 
had rail piles built and rifle-pits dug, and behind them 
formed my line the morning of the 22c!, and from there we 
repulsed every charge and held our line intact until the as- 
sault from the mountain side overwhelmed us. Just to my 



BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND ElSIlER'S HILE 1 19 

right a piece of artillery, under the command of Lieutenant 
Carter Berkeley, — as brave as the bravest, as knightly as the 
knightliest, — was pouring shell, grape, and canister into the 
mass that was sweeping down the mountain slope, but to no 
visible effect. 

As I saw the mighty horde coming I withdrew my men 
for a short distance to higher ground, and there formed my 
line. Then, watching an opportunity, I charged, but before 
going far I was struck by a piece of shell in the right knee, 
and I dropped to the ground ; almost instantly my men 
broke and scattered in every direction, with the exception 
of two or three who remained with me, secured an aban- 
doned artillery horse, and putting me on him succeeded by 
whip and spur in stimulating the poor animal to sufficient 
speed to get me away and prevent me from capture, until 
they found an ambulance, into which they put me. 

Through the retreating mass the ambulance wended its 
way, and landed me at Hollingsworth's Hotel, at Wood- 
stock, about twelve o'clock, where I was placed on a cot in 
the parlor, already well filled with wounded Confederates. 
I was suffering great pain. A surgeon came to me and ex- 
amined my knee; he was joined by a second; then came a 
consultation and then I was coolly informed that "my leg 
must come off." The idea shocked and angered me. I 
replied in vigorous style and emphatic language to the ef- 
fect that they couldn't take my leg off. They insisted that 
my life depended upon it. I replied, "Very well, I will take 
the chances. If I die I will take my leg with me." Find- 
ing me so determined that they should not apply their knives 
to me, the surgeons left me. During the night my colored 
boy reached me. Mr. Hollingsworth let me have his rock- 
away, and by sunrise my boy had hitched one of my horses 
to it, and tying the other behind he was ready to remove me 
to a safe point. I was carried out and put in the rockaway 
and we started. 

Late in the afternoon we reached New Market, — dear old 
New Market, my war home, — and there I was received by 
Mrs. Crawford, the wife of Lieut. John H. Crawford, of 



120 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

our cavalry. I had suffered intensely on my trip from 
Woodstock, and was much exhausted. Under the roof of 
this splendid and cultured Southern woman I was treated 
as kindly as if I had been a younger brother, and with her 
I remained for several weeks, until compelled to move on 
account of a Federal raid up the Valley. With a heart 
full of gratitude to Mrs. Crawford and her sweet little 
daughters, I took my departure in the same conveyance that 
had brought me from Woodstock, to some point where I 
would certainly, I hoped, be safe from Federal interference 
while suffering from my wound. 

As I was leaving, Mrs. Crawford told me I must go 
directly to the home of her husband's father, Mr. James 
Crawford, who lived on a farm near Verona, five miles 
north of Staunton — about thirty-eight miles distant from 
Woodstock. We traveled leisurely and did not reach 
Mr. James Crawford's until late in the evening of the second 
day. I was warmly welcomed and spent the night with 
them. 

Mr. Crawford was a delightful old gentleman, and very 
entertaining. His wife was motherly, and his two daugh- 
ters — young ladies — were full of vivacity, and fine conver- 
sationalists. 

The house was a substantial brick building, the farm was 
rich and fertile, and showed evidence of careful and enlight- 
ened cultivation ; the barn and other farm buildings were in 
excellent condition, and everything indicated comfort and 
plenty. In the morning, which was bright and sunshiny, 
without a speck in the clouds, with the assistance of my boy 
I took a seat on the porch, and soon feelings of thankfulness 
rilled my soul as 1 thought of the good fortune that had at- 
tended me since I was wounded at Fisher's Hill. I refused 
to let the surgeons amputate my leg, and in spite of their 
prediction that I would die I was not only still living, but 
was recovering, and before long I would have two good 
legs and could return to the service of my Southland. I 
had met with nothing but kindness, and had just left one 
hospitable and delightful home to be received into another 



BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND FISHER'S HILE 121 

equally as warm and pleasant, to stay until my recovery was 
complete, if I should desire to remain so long. 

My heart was overflowing with gratitude to the Craw- 
fords, and I was mentally showering blessings upon the 
name. But my reverie was suddenly broken. A cavalry- 
man, with his horse foaming and panting, galloped up to the 
front gate and announced that "the Yankees were advancing 
and were only a few miles off." Instantly the peace, quiet, 
and serenity of that happy country home was changed into 
alarm, activity, and confusion; the negroes, horses, cattle, 
sheep and hogs, carriages and wagons must be speedily re- 
moved and taken to some place beyond the reach of the ene- 
my, and I must not stand upon the order of my going, but 
go at once. 

In quick time, after bidding the ladies good-by, and 
expressing my thanks for their goodness, I put off in the 
direction of Waynesboro. The country road was not 
smooth like the pike over which I had traveled, and by the 
time we reached Waynesboro, which was perhaps three 
o'clock, my knee was giving me considerable trouble. Still 
I determined to go farther, thinking it likely that the enemy 
might reach the town and I would have to move again if I 
remained there. I thought it would be well to put the Blue 
Ridge between me and the blue jackets. My trip through 
Rock Fish Gap and several miles beyond that afternoon and 
night, before I reached a stopping place, will ever continue 
vivid in my memory. We traveled at a slow walk ; the road 
was a bed of loose rocks from the size of a man's fist to the 
size of a half-bushel measure. My sufferings soon became 
intense. On we went, and not until nine o'clock, or perhaps 
later, did we arrive at our halting place. It was Greenwood, 
then owned and occupied by one of Virginia's princely sons, 
of whom she has boasted from her birth as a Colony to the 
present time — Mr. John H. Timberlake. 

As we approached his gate we heard the strains of the 
piano and melodious voices, and gay and happy sounds. I 
did not know Mr. Timberlake personally, but my servant 
boy, whose name was George Terrell, had been raised in the 



122 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

neighborhood, and Mr. Timberlake knew him well. Leav- 
ing me in the rockaway, George went to the door and rang 
the bell, and almost instantly Mr. Timberlake came running 
to me, saying as he came, "Why certainly we will take care 
of him." He shook hands with me, and then told me that 
his house was full, but room would be found for me. if some 
had to leave and go to the barn. George, who was a power- 
ful young negro, took me in his arms, and following the di- 
rections of Mr. Timberlake, carried me into the parlor, 
which was filled with soldiers and ladies, and laid me on a 
sofa. The parlor was immediately cleared, and attention 
was given to my knee. Later a good supper was brought to 
me, but the pain was too severe for me to eat much of it; 
then a comfortable mattress was brought and I was placed 
on it, everything was made quiet and I was left for the night, 
George sleeping in the room with me. All these arrange- 
ments were made under the supervision of Mr. Timberlake 
and his wife. The next morning I was given a room on the 
second floor. 

In a few days my pain had greatly subsided, and in per- 
haps a week I was able, by being carried from my room, to 
sit in the parlor and enjoy the home circle and listen to the 
charming music on the piano by an accomplished performer, 
Mrs. Whitehead, a daughter of Mr. Timberlake, and the 
wife of Reverend Paul Whitehead, D. D., and the mother of 
Silas Whitehead, then a mere lad in skirts, who grew to 
manhood to reflect honor and credit for years upon his par- 
ents, and whose death not long since in Richmond brought 
sorrow to the hearts of a host of friends who admired him 
for his manly qualities and loved him for his many virtues. 

Mr. Timberlake was a Union man when the war broke 
out; he never believed in the abstract right of secession, 
and thought the South was very impolitic in seceding. He 
recognized the fact that the South had suffered grievous 
wrongs for years that called loudly for redress, but he be- 
lieved the surest way to obtain redress was "under the flag 
and in the Union," as he expressed it. Still his heart and 
his sympathies were warmly with the South in her struggle 



BATTLES OF WINCHESTER AND ElSHER'S HIEE 1 23 

and he prayed for her success. He sent two sons to the 
Confederate Army, both of whom were gallant soldiers, and 
he furnished in full measure supplies for our army from 
his smoke-house, granaries and fields, and when the final 
end came he suffered from the result to such an extent as to 
render him unhappy the last years of his life. 

Before I was well enough to walk without crutches I was 
compelled "by our friends, the enemy," to leave Mr. Tim- 
berlake's. 

A body of Federal cavalry crossed the mountain and 
raided the section in which I had been staying, which had not 
previously felt the hoof or been touched by the ravages of 
war. They relieved Mr. Timberlake of his horses, and car- 
ried away a fine animal that belonged to me, which I had left 
when I took my departure. 

My next stopping place was the home of Major Burr P. 
Noland, near Ivy Station on the Virginia Central Railroad, 
now the Chesapeake and Ohio, but this was for a night only. 
It was here I saw for the first time Captain George G. Grat- 
tan , a native of Rockingham County, Virginia, and a 
nephew of Hon. Peachy R. Grattan, a distinguished lawyer 
and long the reporter of the Court of Appeals of Virginia. 
Young Grattan, after finishing his education, had gone, as 
well as I remember, to Georgia, and enlisted when the war 
commenced in a Georgia regiment, and by his gallantry had 
won a captain's commission, and was serving on the staff 
of General A. H. Colquitt, when in one of the Southern bat- 
tles he had lost a leg. He was tall and fair-haired, about 
twenty-five years of age, modest, and I thought almost as 
shy as a girl. In fact, any stranger would hardly have imag- 
ined, but for the evidence his empty pants leg and crutch 
furnished, that this modest young man had already proved 
himself a hero. Yet this was just what he had done. 

His sister, Miss Lucy, was with him. During the even- 
ing I discovered that she was a lady of remarkable intelli- 
gence and information, ready to converse on any subject, 
and combat any views in which she did not concur. She was 
an independent thinker, formed her own conclusions, and 



124 FORTY YiCARS OF ACTIVE SSRVICU 

always had the courage of her convictions. In after years I 
lived in the same town with Captain Grattan, and in fact 
was his next-door neighbor; we practised law at the same 
bar. After I became a judge I appointed him Common- 
wealth's Attorney, and from 1886 to 1904 he was the judge 
of the same court over which I had presided, retiring only 
when the court was abolished under the present Constitu- 
tion of Virginia. In war he proved himself to be true as a 
soldier; in peace he proved himself worthy of every posi- 
tion he was called to fill. 

As I have said, I only remained a single night at Major 
Noland's. I sought boarding quarters and soon found 
them. My knee had not improved as rapidly as I had hoped 
it would, in fact it was worse than it was weeks before, and 
finally my physician informed me that my recovery without 
a stiff joint depended upon the greatest care; that I could 
not stand the exposure of camp life in winter or cold 
weather, and that I would not be able to return to the service 
before spring without risking serious consequences. 

The first of December came and I was still on crutches, 
with no prospect of being able to lay them aside before 
spring. I had a half-brother and half-sister living in and 
near Enterprise, Mississippi, and I had not seen either of 
them since I was a small boy. My sister was the youngest 
and I was the eldest of my father's children by his first and 
second marriages respectively. We were particularly at- 
tached to each other. She had been writing and urging me 
to visit her whenever I got hurt, but I had never done so. 

When I became convinced I would be on crutches until 
spring, the pleasure of visiting my sister and brother, whom 
I had not seen for years, came into my mind, and the more 
I thought of it the more I was inclined to make the trip; 
then my surgeon advised me that the warmer climate would 
be beneficial to me, and that settled the matter. I ap- 
plied for a wounded furlough until March first ; it was 
quickly granted and I started. The trip was a long and 
tedious one. Sherman had made his famous "march to the 
sea" ; he had destroyed railroad tracks and bridges, and fre- 



BATTUCS OF WINCHESTER AND FISHER'S HILL, 1 25 

quent connections were made in stage coaches and omni- 
buses, — all antiquated, — road wagons, even dump-carts, and 
every conceivable vehicle drawn by horses or mules. Sev- 
eral times I was delayed an entire day, and often for 
many hours, waiting for conveyances to carry persons from 
one railroad to another or over breaks in the road by which 
I had arrived at my halting point. However, on Christmas 
morning, 1864, I arrived at my brother's home at Enter- 
prise, without any serious mishap on the route from Rich- 
mond, and the eldest born of each of my father's two sets 
of children were locked in each other's embrace. My 
brother was a man of over forty, large and stately in ap- 
pearance, with a family. I was twenty-three, tall and slen- 
der, "whole heart and fancy free." I drove out in a day or 
two to see my sister, and it was a joyous meeting. I di- 
vided my time during my stay pretty equally between the 
two homes. Very soon after my arrival at Enterprise I 
met a lady of whom my sister had written me much. The 
lady was quite a young widow, and a sister-in-law of my 
sister's husband. With me "it was love at first sight," and 
my furlough being short, I lost no time in pressing my suit, 
with the most gratifying result. 

We were married on the 8th day of February, and I had 
to use a crutch to support me while the marriage ceremony 
was being performed. I wrote back to Virginia and asked 
for a ten-day extension of my furlough ; it was granted. 
On the first day of March I took leave of my wife, kindred, 
and friends and started to rejoin my regiment. I did not ar- 
rive at Staunton until about the 12th, and as quickly as 
possible reported for duty with my regiment, in the vicin- 
ity of Edenburg. 



CHAPTER XV 

EVENTS IN THE VAEEEY TOWARD THE END. 

McNeill's Partisan Rangers — His Ride into Cumberland and Capture of 
Generals Kelley and Crook the Boldest Achievement of the War — 
Death of Lieutenant Meigs— Some "Scraps"— A Raid on My Own 
Account — A Claim for the Soil of Shenandoah County — We Hear 
of Lee's Surrender and are Incredulous — The Thought of Sub- 
jugation — A Message from General Hancock — My Address on Dis- 
banding the Regiment — Attempt to Join Johnston's Army. 

My regiment, the Twenty-third ; Gilmore's battalion and 
McNeill's Partisan Rangers were the only Confederate sol- 
diers in the Valley on my return from the South. The first 
two were on picket and scout duty, with a long range of 
country to watch and guard with so small a force. They 
were kept extremely busy and their service was hard. Mc- 
Neill, who was a "free lance," with authority to go where 
he pleased, and almost to do what he pleased, was constantly 
watching for opportunities to surprise a picket post, scout- 
ing party, or wagon train, and was most successful. 

With perhaps a hundred young, dashing and fearless fel- 
lows, well equipped and splendidly mounted, under him, 
thoroughly familiar with the country, knowing every moun- 
tain pass, path, gorge and hiding place, every road and 
stream, he was a veritable wizard in the art of surprising, 
striking, retiring and escaping — one of the Marions of the 
South. He was so bold and enterprising that he kept the 
enemy constantly uneasy and anxious. He was of Virginia 
descent, but a Missourian by birth, and was first lieutenant 
in the company of which his father was captain, until his 
father was killed, when he became captain and remained as 
such until the war closed. He then returned to Missouri, 
and I think he is still living there. 

His raid into Cumberland, Maryland, deserves a place in 
every book which treats of the stirring period of 1861 to 



EVENTS IN THE VALLEY TOWARD THE END 1 27 

1865. A force of about 10,000 Federals was encamped in 
and around Cumberland, Maryland, and they felt secure 
by reason of their numbers, and never dreamed that as bold 
as McNeill was, he would ever think of coming so far from 
his usual haunts, crossing the Potomac River and disturb- 
ing them, with their large cavalry force that could be put 
instantly upon his trail. But McNeill, believing that they 
felt safe and secure and would not be on the alert, deter- 
mined to raid them. So secretly moving his men to within 
striking distance, under cover of darkness he advanced on 
Cumberland. He surprised and captured, without firing a 
shot, the sleepy pickets, and then boldly rode into the city, 
and sent a detail to the hotel at which Generals Kelley and 
Crook, the commanding generals, had their headquarters. 
The detail, in charge of James Dailey, son of the proprietor 
of the hotel, entered noiselessly and went to the rooms of 
the two generals, finding them in bed. They were taken 
prisoners and required at the muzzles of pistols to keep quiet 
and dress quickly. In the meantime the generals' horses had 
been saddled and bridled, and upon them they were mounted, 
and McNeill and his men as noiselessly as possible rode out 
of the city with their prisoners, and taking mountain paths 
and urging their fleet-footed horses to their best, they were 
in a few hours safe in a friendly section, where they rested. 
Then resuming their march, after their rest, in two or three 
days they delivered the two captured generals to the Con- 
federate authorities at Staunton. 

This was surely as bold and successful an achievement as 
any during the war. McNeill with his 100 men rode directly 
into a camp of 10,000 and brought out as prisoners the two 
commanding generals. If this had been done by a Federal 
officer he and his men would have had bestowed upon them 
medals of honor, but the Confederacy gave no medals of 
honor. McNeill would have been brevetted to high rank, 
but the Confederacy was too near its end to show its appre- 
ciation of the brilliant achievement of her young captain. 

In connection with this remarkable exploit I might men- 
tion the fact that at the time of his capture General Crook 



128 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

was seeking the hand of the sister of the young Confederate 
who was in command of the detail that captured him. After 
the General's release from prison he renewed his suit, and 
the sister of his captor became his wife and followed his for- 
tunes in the far west and amid the dangers of Indian war- 
fare. 

Following this achievement of McNeill, I record another 
feat surely entitled to notice. 

In the County of Rockingham there is a space of country 
about three or four miles square, known as "the burnt dis- 
trict," so named because nearly every farm house of every 
description was burned by an order of General Sheridan in 
1864. Born and reared on a farm near Harrisonburg was a 
young man by the name of Frank Shaver, who had little 
more than passed his majority when Virginia issued her call 
for troops. He volunteered in the cavalry, and developed 
at once into a fearless and adventurous soldier. He took to 
scout duty as naturally as a duck takes to water, and know- 
ing the country well, and ready to brave any danger and 
take any risk, he was soon heralded as a superior scout. He 
always operated with two or three men, and many were the 
accounts given of his hovering around and in some instances 
entering the Federal lines and making captures of men and 
horses. He was so daring and adventurous and scouted so 
close to the enemy that his information was always valuable 
and reliable. 

On the night before the day of General Sheridan's order, 
Shaver with two men met in a road at the summit of a small 
ridge a Federal cavalry officer and two men, who had come 
out from their camp, which was near, to reconnoitre as it 
was supposed. Both parties were surprised at the meeting, 
but there was no faltering on either side. Pistols leaped 
from their holsters and firing commenced, and in the short- 
est time it ceased, and the Federal officer and one of Shaver's 
men had fallen from their horses dead, and Shaver and his 
remaining man had the other two Federal cavalrymen pris- 
oners. The Federal officer proved to be Lieutenant Meigs, 



EVENTS IN THE VALLEY TOWARD TllE END 120. 

an exceedingly promising and popular young officer, and a 
son of General Meigs of the United States Army. 

The body of the lieutenant was left undisturbed where it 
fell, and the next morning, or perhaps that night, it was 
borne to the Federal camp. It is said that Lieutenant Meigs 
was a great favorite with General Sheridan, and under the 
false charge that the Lieutenant had been murdered and his 
men captured by farmers of the neighborhood, without stop- 
ping to investigate, the General issued and had executed his 
unjustifiable and cruel order. 

Shaver was a splendid type of physical manhood. He 
was more than six feet in height, with dark complexion and 
iet black hair and beard, and as straight as an Indian. 
When he sheathed his sabre at the end of strife he took hold 
of the plow handles and pursued the calling of husbandry 
until his death several years ago. Through the years of 
peace in which he lived he was an honored citizen, and his 
chivalry and daring live in the memory of his people. 

The Twenty-third had many "scraps," as the boys called 
them — minor engagements, but always costing blood and 
frequently lives, during March and April, until the surren- 
der. 

On the 8th day of April (Saturday) I was encamped at 
a hamlet called Paintertown, not far from Edenburg. About 
two o'clock on that day I received a message from the signal 
station at the point of the Massanutten Mountain at Stras- 
burg, eighteen or twenty miles below or north of me, that a 
force of Federal cavalry was approaching Strasburg; the 
signal man estimated the number at 400. When they 
reached Strasburg another message came that the atmos- 
phere had become so hazy and misty that it was impossible 
to tell what direction they had taken. There were three 
routes open to them. I immediately sent out scouts to find 
them and report to me as soon as they were located. My 
scouts did not return to me until late in the night, when they 
reported that the Federal cavalry had continued on the pike 
from Strasburg, and had encamped at Pugh's Run. two 
miles beyond Woodstock and eight or nine miles from nxy 




I30 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

camp. All told, my numbers in camp did not exceed thirty- 
rive men. 

I determined to attack the Federal camp. There was no 
time to call men from the picket line, so I mounted 32 men, 
including myself and my major, all without sabres, and 
started. With the aid of a citizen guide we avoided the ene- 
my's pickets and got inside their picket line and within 
three hundred yards of the camp without being discovered. 
Here I dismounted the men and had the horses securely tied, 
and leaving four men to look after the horses, I moved the 
remainder across a field to a piece of woods in which the 
Federal cavalry, in blissful ignorance of a Confederate being 
within miles of them, were wrapped in sleep. 

There was not a sound in their camp, except now and 
then from a horse. Just at the first indication of daybreak 
we had crawled to within a hundred feet or less of the 
sleeping men, on the south side of their camp. Here we 
rested for perhaps ten minutes to get our breath well, and 
then I gave the command ''charge!" The men sprang to 
their feet and made the rush. The surprise was complete. 
In the shortest time imaginable the whole force, except the 
prisoners, and we had four or five each, were running for 
dear life in every direction. No twenty-eight men in the 
world ever made more noise or did more shooting in so little 
time. We were loaded down with pistols and carbines, 
which we had captured, and we kept up a perfect fusilade, 
at the same time my bugler, who was Ammie Blackemore, 
nt present a worthy resident of Staunton, whom I had left 
with the horses, was, as I had directed him, sounding the 
cavalry charge with all the lung power his Maker had given 
him, making the impression that our numbers were large. 

As soon as the Federals had fled from the camp I thought 
it prudent to get away, for light was coming, so I ordered 
my men to secure as many horses as possible and retire to 
our rallying point. The order was promptly obeyed, and 
in a few minutes we were on our horses, leading the captured 
ones, and making fast tracks, under the leadership of our 
citizen guide, through the woods and bushes toward the 
North Mountain. 



EVENTS IN THE VALLEY TOWARD THE END 131 

We brought out many horses, some of them very fine. 
We were not pursued a yard. 

We reached our camp about ten o'clock, but the captured 
horses were taken to a more secure place, though I hardly 
expected the Federals to advance farther. I predicted that 
their flight and the loss they had sustained would induce 
them to return, and my prediction was right. They did not 
venture back into their camp until full daylight, and then 
they moved slowly and cautiously, evidently fearing that 
they might strike trouble, to Woodstock, and there turned 
about and retired down the Valley, with their wagons loaded 
with wounded men, and several dead, as I was informed. 
We had one man, Wash Walters, of Mount Jackson, a 
faithful and true soldier, painfully but not dangerously 
wounded. He is still living, and has been for years a pas- 
senger engineer on a Western railroad. 

The Federals, consisting of detachments from several 
regiments, and numbering 375, under the command of 
Major Martindale, had started from Winchester to go 
as far up the Valley as Harrisonburg, but they stopped 
at less than half way the distance to the point of their des- 
tination. It is due to my little squad of brave young fel- 
lows who were with me that April morning, 1865, to say 
that I do not think the records of our war can furnish an 
instance where 28 men attacked 375 with more signal suc- 
cess. For them I claim that their work was not excelled 
during the four years of strife. 

It was said Major Martindale, upon arriving at Winches- 
ter, reported that he had been attacked by a large body of 
infantry and cavalry, and that there was a considerable Con- 
federate force in the Valley. Whether he made such a report 
or not, I do not know. But on the following Tuesday a 
force of 3.500 cavalry, under the command of General Tor- 
bert, moved up the Valley as far as Mount Jackson. In 
front of him I had perhaps as many as 350 men. He moved 
slowly, and only a few times was my advance charged or 
driven back upon the reserve. What General Torbert's pur- 
pose was I never learned, but it gave color to the rumor as to 



I32 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

Martindale's report — particularly his slow and deliberate 
movement. During Tuesday night General Torbert com- 
menced to retire ; we followed close on his heels, and at or 
about sunrise on Wednesday we charged his rear guard, a 
short distance below Woodstock, and captured two or three 
prisoners and sent them to Staunton. 

And now I come to make the claim that it was upon the 
soil of Shenandoah County that the last Confederate line 
was held, the last fight made, and the last prisoner captured 
by any part of the Army of Northern Virginia. I make the 
further claim that my little command held the last Confed- 
erate line, made the last fight, and captured the last pris- 
oner held, made and captured upon the soil of old Virginia. 

If there should be "a doubting Thomas" anywhere, these 
claims can be established, I am sure, by the records and a 
host of living witnesses. I have never heard them ques- 
tioned, and I record them here simply that they may be 
perpetuated and not fade away as the coming years run 
their cycles. 

On Wednesday, April 12th, I moved back to New Mar- 
ket and went into camp near the town. Thursday morning 
I was startled by a rumor that General Lee had surrendered. 
My men heard it at the same time. I denied it. "It could 
not be true. General Lee has not surrendered! It is im- 
possible!" 

My men denounced the rumor and the man who circu- 
lated it. In a little while Captain A. J. Adams sent for me 
to come to New Market. I rode there rapidly, and I found 
Adams talking with a half dozen or more cavalrymen. He 
said, "These men say General Lee has surrendered, but I 
don't believe a word of it." I questioned the men. They 
were perfectly frank, and told me they were returning to the 
army, but when they got to Staunton they were told that 
General Lee had surrendered ; that everybody there knew 
it. I asked them where they were going? They replied to 
their homes. I said, "No, you can't go through my lines. 
You must go out to my camp and stay there for the pres- 
ent." They readily consented and rode to camp with me. 



EVENTS IN THE VAELEY TOWARD THE END 1 33 

The realization of the truth of the rumor I had heard ear 
Her in the day began to take possession of me. The more 
I talked with the returning- men, the more I became con- 
vinced that the death knell of the Confederacy had been 
sounded, and yet ever and anon hope would well up in my 
breast and I would cast aside even the possibility of such a 
thing. 

My men were more incredulous than myself; the most of 
them believed it to be a canard, and they were inclined to 
look suspiciously upon the men who had come from Staun- 
ton, and to hint that there was something wrong about them, 
and they had better be watched. The night passed; a 
sleepless night to me. I could not imagine why, if the sur- 
render had occurred on the previous Sunday as these men 
said, no official information had reached me. Then I re- 
membered that there was no telegraph line, and any infor- 
mation would have to come by mounted messenger. 

"Who would send it?" This question would constantly 
be asked mentally? It would be presumed, I would argue, 
that the news would fly on swift wings and it would cer- 
tainly reach me and I would govern myself accordingly. 
But, I would still argue, suppose the presumption was cor- 
rect, and the news did reach me, how could I know what to 
do unless I also knew the terms of the surrender. How 
could I know whether or not my command was included in 
the surrender unless I was informed as to the terms. If I 
acted upon the presumption that my command was em- 
braced and it was not, what an embarrassing position I 
would be placed in if I struck my colors, stacked my arms, 
and surrendered. If, upon the other hand, my command 
was embraced in the terms of surrender and I continued in 
the field, what would be my position under military law. 

Then the thought of subjugation and what would be the 
fate of our people if the Confederacy had in fact fallen 
would take possession of me, and I would think of the fate 
of other conquered and subjugated lands, of the persecution 
and wrongs, oppression and trials under which they had suf- 
fered; how the hot iron had been plunged into the very 



134 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

souls of their people and the heavy chariot wheels of power 
had been driven mercilessly over them. With sleepless eye- 
lids and perturbed brain, my heart throbbing as it had never 
throbbed before, and my nervous system at the highest ten- 
sion, I spent the night. 

By sunrise I had arisen from my restless bunk. It was 
Friday morning, and while the meadows in which our 
horses were grazing seemed more verdant and the trees 
more forward than I had ever seen them ; in fact, while all 
nature seemed to my senses to be brighter and sweeter than 
ever before, there appeared to be sadness in the sun's rays 
and in the chirping of the birds and in all animate sounds. 
The thoughts of the previous night had brought sadness to 
the faces of my men, and they who on the evening before 
would not tolerate the idea of Lee's surrender had evidently 
changed their minds during the still, reflecting hours be- 
tween the setting and rising sun. They were realizing the 
probable truth of the rumor of the downfall of the Confed- 
eracy and its consequences. There was absence of the usual 
mirth and hilarity of the camp — no songs or laughter were 
heard, everything was as quiet as a Sabbath day. 

The morning hours wore away and midday came, and no 
more tidings reached us. But the suspense was soon to be 
relieved and all lingering doubts removed, for under a flag 
of truce I received a message ; it was from General Winfield 
S. Hancock, commanding the Federal army in the Valley. 
I cannot after so many years give the language, but he in- 
formed me that General Lee had surrendered, and unless I 
did so at once he would be compelled to bring me and 
my men in as prisoners of war. 

For some time after the war closed the rumor was cur- 
rent that I sent him word to go to a place not made 
for the righteous. The rumor was without foundation, and 
I could never imagine how it originated. His message was 
entirely courteous, and of course my reply was equally so, 
and to the effect that I had no official information of the 
surrender ; that I had certain orders and should endeavor to 
obey them until they were countermanded, and that I had 
no idea of surrendering. 



EVENTS IN THE VAELEY TOWARD THE END 1 35 

In an hour or two after I had replied to General Han- 
cock's message a courier rode into my camp from Staunton, 
and handed me a communication from Maj.-Gen. L. L. 
Lomax, commanding the Valley District, informing me offi- 
cially of General Lee's surrender, and saying, "You can 
either surrender or disband." I determined very quietly I 
would not march to Winchester and surrender ; but whether 
I should disband or hold my men together and attempt to 
join Johnston's army, which was still in the field, was a 
question I could not easily decide. I finally came to the 
conclusion that I had no right or power to hold the regiment 
together as an organization; that I must disband it and 
leave every man free to do as he pleased — go to his home or 
to Johnston. 

Assembling my officers, I read General Lomax's commu- 
nication to them, and announced my conclusions, in which 
they concurred. I then ordered the regiment to be formed, 
and when all the companies were in line I took my position 
in front of them and addressed them, as near as I can recall 
my words, as follows : 

"Officers and men of the Tiventy-third Cavalry: ^ 

"I am in receipt of a communication from Maj. Gen. L. 
L. Lomax, commanding the Valley District, informing me 
officially of the surrender of the Army of Northern Vir- 
ginia, by General Lee. That this act was necessary and 
wise admits of no doubt when we know that it was the act 
of Robert E. Lee. The communication states that I can 
either surrender or disband. I shall not surrender, but I 
do not feel that I have the right or power to hold you 
together as a regiment, so I shall presently disband you and 
leave each one of you to determine for yourself whether 
your duty as a Confederate is ended and you are fully ab- 
solved from your obligation to your Southland. So far as 
I am personally concerned, I shall not unbuckle my sabre 
or lay aside my pistols as long as there is a Confederate 
army in the field anywhere upon Southern soil. Two such 
armies — Johnston and Smith — still have their colors flying, 
and I shall leave this night to join Johnston. 



T36 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

''Before taking leave of you, I must congratulate you 
upon the faithful manner in which you have discharged 
your duty and the courage and heroism, patriotism and de- 
votion, you have ever displayed, even amid privations and 
sufferings of the severest kind. No soldiers of the South 
are more justly entitled to her gratitude than yourselves. 

"I desire to thank you for the uniform kindness and con- 
sideration you have showed me at all times, and the prompt- 
ness with which you have obeyed my orders. I shall carry 
you all in my memory to my latest day. 

"I now declare the Twenty-third Regiment of Virginia 
Cavalry relieved from further service and disbanded." 

I was of course without experience as a speaker, yet every 
word I uttered seemed to strike deep into the souls of my 
men, for they came from the heart. While I was talking I 
could see tears streaming down many a cheek, and fre- 
quently I could hear deep-drawn sighs and sobs partially 
suppressed. It was a scene of intense sadness; sorrow was 
in every face. 

After the disbandment the regiment gathered in little 
groups, and so far as I ever heard there was not a man who 
did not think his duty was not ended ; but the most of them 
felt that they should go to their homes, look after their 
families, get clothing or fresh horses, and then if Johnston's 
army continued in the field, join it. 

That night about thirty of my men, including Captain A. 
J. Adams, one of the truest and gamest men I ever saw, 
started with me to Johnston's army. We gathered in New 
Market, and the whole population turned out to bid us fare- 
well. 

Every one of us, I think, was personally known to the 
people of this loyal and open-doored town, and some of our 
squad had relatives living there. 

Generally there were only patriarchs and small boys 
among the males, for the young and able-bodied men of the 
town were in the army and had not yet returned ; but 
all the matrons, young women, and girls were present to say 
good-by and breathe benediction upon our heads, and pray 



EVENTS IN THE VALLEY TOWARD THE END 1 37 

that "the South may even yet be successful." The scene 
was indeed a stirring one and worthy of any painter's brush. 

We moved out toward Staunton and encamped after rid- 
ing about six miles. Early the next day we rode into 
Staunton, to the surprise of the citizens, who supposed that 
every Confederate soldier was at home or on his way, and 
the idea that our destination was Johnston's army amazed 
them. They were all disposed to give us credit for our 
loyalty, but many of them thought it would be "a wild goose 
chase" and perfectly futile. A gentleman of prominence, 
with whom I afterwards became well acquainted, expressed 
himself in this wise : "The Army of Northern Virginia and 
Robert E. Lee constituted the backbone of the Confederacy. 
With its backbone broken how can any sensible man believe 
the Confederacy can live for ten days, even in name. These 
boys are allowing their feelings to drive out their senses. 
They had better go to their homes and put their horses to 
the plow r and then take hold of the handles." 

As I look back now, I am ready to admit there was wis- 
dom in these words, but none of us thought so at the time, 
and one of the party expressed the opinion that this promi- 
nent citizen "could never have been much of a Confederate, 
or he wouldn't talk that way" ; but this was not so, for he 
had been a staunch Confederate. 

At Staunton I met Colonel Michael G. Harman, who had 
been disabled in the Battle of McDowell while commanding 
the Fifty-eighth Regiment of Virginia Infantry. Calling 
me to him he asked me if I had any money. I replied, "Oh 
yes, I have plenty of Confederate money." Putting his 
hand into his pocket he pulled out two twenty-dollar gold 
pieces and said, "Take this money; you will need it. Your 
Confederate money will do you no good." I replied, "Col- 
onel, I thank you, but I may never be able to return it, so 
I must decline your kind offer." He said, "You shall take 
it," and dropped the pieces in my pocket. He then talked 
with me about our plans, and while he did not discourage 
me, I realized before long that he thought we were doing 
a senseless thing. 



138 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

Colonel Harman, who in a few months became my warm 
and staunch friend and remained so until his death, was the 
father of Asher W. Harman, who has been for many years 
the State Treasurer of Virginia, and possesses the noble 
traits of his father. 

Before our party could reach Johnston's army it had sur- 
rendered, and we disbanded and scattered. 

In a few days I arrived at Lynchburg. There I met Cap- 
tain Frank Berkeley, who had been the Adjutant-General of 
Imboden's brigade, and together we rode by way of the 
tow-path of the James River and Kanawha Canal to Lex- 
ington, and thence to Staunton, his home, and where I lo- 
cated and entered business pursuits. 

Captain Berkeley was not only a distinguished soldier, 
but a most courteous and polished gentleman, a genial com- 
panion, and sincere friend. He has joined the mighty host, 
but he will ever live green in my memory. 



CHAPTER XVI 

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF SERVICE. 

On Parole— He Couldn't Run Fast Enough— A Demoralized Man— A 
Use For Tar— Persimmons— Wished He Was a Gal Baby— A 
General and a Driver— A Devoted Negro Servant— The "Question of 
Lee's Army"— Governor Smith— He Feared the Rays of the Sun 
More than he did the Enemy's Bullets— A Gallant Major of the 
Twenty-third— The Infernal "Jessie Scouts." 

Soon after I had located at Staunton I was paroled by a 
General Duval of West Virginia, who was in command of 
some Federal troops stationed there, and this ended my life 
as a Confederate soldier. 

There were many amusing incidents during the four 
years, which I have not related, that I am sure would inter- 
est and amuse my readers. Some of them I will notice, 
even at the risk of being regarded as prolix. 

At the Second Battle of Manassas a gray-jacket was seen 
making tracks to the rear as fast as his feet would carry 
him. An officer riding to the front said, "Hello there, what 
are you running so for?" The fellow, without turning his 
head, as he leaped a fence without touching it, replied, ''Be- 
cause I can't fly !" He told the truth, for had he wings he 
would have winged his flight to realms of safety. 

In one of the battles below Richmond another fellow- 
wearing the Confederate gray was running away from the 
battle, rushing through the bushes and clearing everything 
in his course. He was asked what was the matter with 
him, when he called back, "Nothing in particular, but I'se 
the worst demoralized man in this whole army." 

In passing, regiments would jeer and make flings at each 
other. On one occasion a Virginia cavalry regiment was 
passing a North Carolina regiment, and they were hurling 
their witticisms at each other. A Virginian, catching the 
eye of a big North Carolinian, asked him if he had been 
home lately. "Oh yes," said the North Carolinian. "Did 



[40 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

you bring any tar back with you?" said the Virginian. 
''Yes," retorted the North Carolinian, "our general ordered 
me to bring a whole car-load back?" "What for?" asked 
the Virginian. "To let your general have it to put on your 
heels, to make you stick in the next fight!" This was a 
home thrust, for the Virginia regiment it was thought had 
recently made too rapid a "retrograde" movement. 

The soldiers did not confine their humor or even badger- 
ing always to themselves. At times they made hits at their 
officers. 

A party of cavalrymen were gathering persimmons that 
were not ripe. An officer who was passing ordered them 
to let the persimmons alone, that they were so green they 
would draw their mouths up. "That's why we want them ; 
we want to draw our mouths up to the size of our rations." 
The Colonel had not been taking good care of his men, and 
their rations were small. 

The night before the Battle of Port Republic a drafted 
man was heard away off from the camp going on at a terri- 
ble rate. A passing soldier hearing the noise and suppos- 
ing it came from a sick and suffering man went to him, and 
asked him what was the matter with him. He replied : 
"Why, I am just about scared to death. They have 
brought me from home and put me in this army. I don't 
know how to fight, and can't fight, and I will just be shot 
down like a dog. O Lord, have mercy upon me! O Lord, 
deliver me !" The soldier tried to infuse some courage into 
him, but the fellow got worse. Finally the soldier said : 
"Get up here, you miserable coward ! You should be 
ashamed of yourself. You are behaving worse than a big 
baby." The fellow blubbered out, "Baby, you say; I wish 
I was a baby, and a gal baby too !" 

In the early part of the struggle our army in the moun- 
tains of West Virginia met with many reverses and were 
kept constantly "on the move." The roads were wretched 
and the horses were broken down, and the men were dis- 
heartened and discouraged. On a certain retreat a wagon 
stuck in a mud hole, and the driver was cracking his whip 



ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF SERVICE I4I 

and lashing his team in order to get out and get on, for the 
boys in blue were close on the rear. The general command- 
ing rode up and rebuked him for cruelty to his horses, and 
said, "Here is a good team that is being spoiled by a mighty 
poor driver." The driver replied : "Do you think so, Gen- 
eral. Well, they tell me, General, — God knows, I don't 
know, — that this is a good army that is being spoiled by a 
mighty poor general. But as I said, General, God knows, 
I don't know." 

In fact, neither the general nor the driver was at fault. 
The wagon was overloaded, the horses were poor and weak. 
The topography of the country and the sentiment of the 
people were against us, and any position could easily be 
tianked with the aid of the mountain guides who were 
always at hand, thick as hops. 

All of our drillmasters were by no means West Pointers 
or Virginia Institute cadets. 

In a certain company an Irishman was ordered to drill a 
raw squad. His first command was, "Presint arms!" 
They presented. The sergeant exclaimed : "Hivens ! 
what a presint. Just sthep out here now an' look at yer- 
selves!" 

The devotion to their masters of the negro body-servants 
of the Confederate officers was great. Occasionally one of 
them would be captured, but I never heard of a single in- 
stance in which one of them enlisted in the Federal Army, 
or who did not return to his master if it were possible. I 
heard this story of an old man who was picked up by a 
scouting party, but was released or made his escape. When 
he got back to the Confederate camp he was delighted, and 
told his master that they tried to get him to enlist in the 
Federal Army. His master asked him what he said to 
them. He replied : "Massa, I had to argerfy with them 
right smart. I said to de officer, 'Massa, did you ebber see 
two dogs a fightin' ober a bone.' He said, 'Sartainly.' 'Wall, 
did you ebber see de bone fightin' ?' He said, 'No.' 'Wall, 
Massa, you bofe fightin' and I is de bone. Guess dis nigger 
won't fight.' " 



142 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

The Valley of Virginia was styled "the granary of Lee's 
Army," and it was so almost literally. In 1863 the wheat 
crop was unusually fine; the fields were radiant in their 
golden hue of harvest time as Lee's army moved along- 
through Clarke County to the sanguinary field of Gettys- 
burg. 

The sight was a surprise to the troops from the far South- 
ern States ; they had never seen such a growth of the cereal. 
I was told that they gave expression to their surprise in 
various ways. Some would say, "Did anybody ever see 
such wheat since the days of ancient Egypt?" Others, 
"Look here, fellows, tell me what they will do with all this 
wheat? They can't stack it on this field; they will have to 
haul a heap of it off and thresh it on other ground." "See 
here, Bill, we have been mighty short of wheat bread, but 
if Marse Robert will just take care of this crop, we won't 
be short of flour rations again." "I tell you, Jake, I have 
been afraid the Yankees would starve us out, but now I am 
satisfied. Why, we will have wheat to sell." 

And thus these boys from where the opening cotton bolls 
had always been to them things of beauty, and made them 
regard "Cotton as King," would give vent to their feelings 
as they marched along with nimble steps, bound to some 
carnage ground, they knew not where; but it proved to be 
the hills of Gettysburg, as I have stated, where many of 
them fell, and never returned to eat the bread made from 
that or any other wheat crop. 

The Governor of Virginia at the conclusion of the war 
was William Smith, of Fauquier County, whose term com- 
menced January, 1864. This was his second term; his 
first was eighteen years previous. Of all of Virginia's gov- 
ernors since her statehood began, only three have filled the 
chair twice — Patrick Henry, James Monroe and William 
Smith. 

Governor Smith was sixty-four years old when President 
Lincoln issued his proclamation calling for troops to subju- 
gate the seceding States. He came of fighting, fearless, 
and dauntless stock. In his veins coursed the blood of the 



ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF SERVICE 143 

Doniphans, three of whom, brothers, in America's War for 
Independence were in the company commanded by John 
Marshall, afterwards Chief Justice of the United States, 
whose fame will last as long, yes, longer than this Republic, 
if this Republic should ever die. At the Battle of Brandy- 
wine one of the Doniphan brothers was killed. 

President Lincoln's proclamation, it is said, aroused Gov- 
ernor Smith's indignation to the highest pitch. His words 
of condemnation flowed as hot as lava from his tongue, and 
he proceeded at once to raise a regiment and equip it from 
his own pocket, and then to tender it to Governor John 
Letcher. The regiment was accepted instantly and Gov- 
ernor Smith was commissioned colonel of it. At the head 
of his regiment, the Forty-ninth Virginia Infantry, he went 
into the field and where dangers were the thickest. After 
he had been several times wounded he was promoted to 
be a brigadier-general. 

In 1863 persistent efforts were made by his friends to in- 
duce him to become a candidate for Governor, but he was 
loath to leave the military service; finally, however, he 
yielded to the constant and earnest solicitations that were 
reaching him from every direction, and became a candidate 
a second time for gubernatorial honors. He was elected 
over his two competitors, both distinguished and true sons 
of the old Commonwealth, by a handsome, in fact large, 
majority. He was at the helm of the State government 
during the fast waning days of the Confederacy, — the last 
fifteen months of its life, — and remained at his post until 
the evacuation of Richmond, and he was the last State or 
Confederate official to leave the Capital City on that event- 
ful, dismal, and tearful night, the second day of April, 1865. 

For some days after the evacuation Governor Smith kept 
himself at a safe distance from the Federals, being told that 
a reward of $25,000 had been offered for his arrest; but 
his proud and brave spirit soon tired of moving about from 
point to point, and though he was admonished by friends 
that he would be treated roughly if he fell into the hands of 
the Federals, he resolved to cease his wanderings and sur- 



144 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

render himself, and by messenger so informed the Federal 
authorities. In a short time he repaired to Richmond and 
reported, I think, to the provost marshal, and instead of 
harsh treatment he was treated with the utmost consider- 
ation, and before long he was permitted to go with his 
family to his Warrenton home. 

Governor Smith was a remarkable man. He had served 
in both branches of the General Assembly of his State, in 
the National House of Representatives, and was elected 
Governor in 1843 and l8 ^3, filling every position with 
marked ability and fidelity. He was an exceedingly strong 
debater and a power on the hustings — in fact in his prime 
he had no superior and few equals in the State, rich in able 
and forceful sons; and no political opponent ever met him 
in joint discussion without feeling the sting of his invective, 
the stroke of his irony, or his trenchant blows of logic. He 
was idolized by his party — the Democratic — and was feared 
by its foe. 

With a competency he had retired from active politics, 
and was living quietly at his beautiful home near Warren- 
ton in the midst of culture and refinement, among the 
Keiths, Huntons, Scotts, Paynes, Brookes, Gaineses, and 
scores of other families equally cultured and refined, when 
war clouds gathered, and the subjugation of the South 
aroused him to action. At the age of more than ninety 
years he died. He appears in Virginia's galaxy as one of 
her brightest stars, and in the niches of her Memory's Tem- 
ple she has carved his name. 

For myself, my heart prompts me to declare that 1 ad- 
mired him in life, and in his sepulchre I revere his memory. 

There was a story in connection with him that went the 
rounds of the camps, that so exemplified his fearlessness or 
disregard for danger in the line of duty as to entitle it to a 
place on these pages. He insisted on carrying a green um- 
brella over him, after he entered the Army, on a hot day to 
shield himself from the rays of the sun. He would carry it in 
the fierceness of battle as well as on the march or in camp. 
In a certain battle he was moving from point to point along 



ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF SERVICE I45 

his line, with his umbrella hoisted, when the commanding- 
general sent him a message suggesting that he lower his 
umbrella as he was making himself a special target for the 
enemy and incurring unnecessary danger. He replied : 

"Give General my compliments, and tell him not to 

trouble himself as to my safety. I fear the rays of the sun 
more than I do the enemy's bullets." 

I was with Imboden in his fight at Charlestown, Jeffer- 
son County, West Virginia. This was a pretty lively en- 
gagement, but our troops were well handled, and while we 
were forced to withdraw, it was done skilfully and in per- 
fect order. In this fight Major Fielding H. Calmese, of 
the Twenty-third Cavalry, had his left arm shattered by a 
ball, between the elbow and shoulder ; several inches of bone 
were resected, depriving him of the use of his arm above 
the elbow, but not below, and he could manage his bridle 
reins about as well as before he was injured. 

His gallantry was ever conspicuous, and he was an ex- 
emplary Confederate soldier. If the Confederacy had con- 
ferred medals for deeds of daring, his breast, like 
others I have mentioned, would have been covered with 
them. While he was still suffering from his wound 
in the arm, he could not be induced to remain quiet 
in the camp, in the hospital, or at some house where 
he would have been welcomed most cordially, but insisted 
upon scouting and watching the movements of the enemy. 
This restless and determined spirit led to his capture. Just 
below Strasburg he was riding down the Valley Turnpike, 
bound for the neighborhood of the Federal camp several 
miles distant, when he saw a body of perhaps twenty men. 
dressed in full Confederate uniforms, coming toward him. 

Not suspecting that their uniforms did not truly repre- 
sent the side to which they belonged, he rode on until he 
met them. Instantly twenty pistols were aimed at him and 
his surrender was demanded, and there was nothing for 
him to do but to surrender or unnecessarily yield up his life ; 
so he surrendered and was sent to prison. These gray- 
coated fellows turned out of course to be Federals disguised 
10 



146 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

in Confederate uniforms, and became known from that time 
as a band of unscrupulous and degraded fellows, called 
"Jessie scouts," and they were active in picking up unsus- 
pecting Confederate cavalrymen and robbing them, and in 
plundering farm houses. 

It was hard to catch any of them, for they never ventured 
where there was much danger, and besides in their Confed- 
erate gray they looked like the rest of us. But occasionally 
we would nab one of them, and he did not receive the treat- 
ment of prisoners captured in their blue uniforms and in 
their true colors ; but I do not think we ever caught any of 
them within our lines, and I never heard of a "Jessie" dang- 
ling in mid-air. 



CHAPTER XVII 

THE PERSONNEL OF THE CONFEDERATE ARMY. 

A Vast Majority of Major and Brigadier-Generals on Botli Sides Com- 
paratively Young Men — A List of Seventeen under Thirty — A List 
of Confederate Generals of Northern Birth — What the Words "Con- 
federate Soldier" stood for — Some Few of the Many Stored in nty 
Memory — What Constitutes a Brave Man — The Term "Rebel" 
Preferred to that of "Secessionist" — A Poem — The Oath of 
Allegiance. 

How few of the present generation know that a vast ma- 
jority of the major and brigadier-generals who led both the 
blue and the gray to renown were young men — far on the 
sunny side of even middle age. 

There were thirty-four major-generals in the Confederate 
Army whose average age at the commencement of the war 
was thirty-two years; seventeen of them were thirty and 
less. These seventeen were from the following States : 

From Virginia — John Pegram (29), Thomas L. Rosser 
(24), Fitzhugh Lee (25), William H. F. Lee (24), James 

E. B. Stuart (28), and Lunsford L. Lomax (26) ; total, 
six. From Alabama — William Wirt Adams (26) and 
Evander M. Law (25) ; total, two. From Georgia — 
Pierce M. B. Young (21). From North Carolina — Robert 

F. Hoke (24), William D. Pender (27), and Stephen D. 
Ransom (24) ; total, three. From Missouri — John L. 
Marmaduke (28). From Louisiana — Camille A. J. M. 
Polignac (29). From South Carolina — Matthew C. Butler 
(24), late United States Senator, and Ellison Capers (23), 
now an Episcopal bishop; total, two. 

There were seventy-eight brigadier-generals in the Con- 
federate Army whose average age at the beginning of the 
war was thirty-one years ; thirty-nine of them were thirty 
and under. These thirty-nine were from the following 
States: From Virginia — Seth M. Barton (28). John R. 
Chambliss (28), James Dearing (21), John Echols (28), 



I48 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

Samuel Garland (30), Edmund G. Lee (26), Thomas T. 
Munford (30), James B. Terrill (23), and James A. 
Walker (29) ; total, nine. From Arkansas — Lucien C. 
Polk (27). From Texas— James T. Major (28), Horace 
Randal (30), Lawrence S. Ross (23), and William H. 
Young (23) ; total, four. From Florida — Edward A. 
Perry (28)', and Francis A. Shoup (27); total, two. 
From Kentucky— Hylan B. Lyon (25). From Missis- 
sippi — James R. Chalmers (30), and Edward C. Walthall 
(30), late United States Senator; total, two. From Ala- 
bama— Pinckney D. Bowles (23), James Deshler (28), 
Archibald Gracie (27), James T. Holtzclaw (27), George 
D. Johnston (29), John H. Kelley (21), John C. C. Sand- 
ers (21), Charles M. Shelley (27), and Edward D. Tracy 
(28); total, nine. From Georgia — Robert H. Anderson 
(25), Dudley M. DuBose (26), and George P. Harrison 
(21); total,' three. From Tennessee — William H. Jack- 
son (25), James E. Rains (28), and Marcus J. Wright 
(30) ; total, three. From West Virginia — Albert G. Jenk- 
ins (30). From Missouri— John B. Clark (30), Francis 
M. Cockerill (26), for years United States Senator, and 
Joseph O. Shelby (30) ;' total, three. From Louisiana- 
Francis J. Nicholls (29). 

It will be observed that Georgia furnished the youngest 
major-general, and that Virginia, Alabama, and Georgia 
furnished the four youngest brigadier-generals — all being 
only twenty-one years of age when the tocsin was sounded. 

I have not the data from which I can gather much infor- 
mation as to the ages of the prominent Federal leaders, but 
I have little doubt that the preponderance of young men — 
men far below middle age — was great. I know that the il- 
lustrious Grant was only thirty-nine; McClellan, "who sank 
into the mere shadow of a great name" through injustice 
and intrigue, was thirty-four; Philip H. Sheridan, the 
hard rider and hard fighter, was thirty, and George A. Cus- 
ter, the ideal soldier and one of the most brilliant figures the 
war produced, was only twenty-one when the sections 
stripped themselves for the terrible conflict. 



THE PERSONNEL OE THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 



149 



It may not be generally known that at least one Confed- 
erate major-general and sixteen Confederate brigadier- 
generals were of Northern birth. The following is the list : 





MAJOR-GENERAL- 




Where enlisted. 


Name. 


State of birth. 


Florida. 


Martin L. Smith. 

BRIGADIER-GENERALS. 


New York. 


IVhcrc enlisted. 


Name. 


State of birth. 


Texas. 


William Steele. 


New York. 


u 


Lawrence S. Ross. 


Iowa. 


Florida. 


Edward A. Ferry. 


Massachusetts. 


tt 


Francis A. Shoup. 


Indiana. 


Virginia. 


Daniel Rugglcs. 


Massachusetts- 


" 


Julius A. DeLagnal. 


New Jersey. 


a 


M. D. Corse. 


District of Columbia 


a 


Walter H. Stevens. 


New York. 


Louisiana. 


Albert G. Blanchard- 


Massachusetts. 


tt 


Johnson K. Duncan. 


Pennsylvania. 


Arkansas. 


Albert Pike. 


Massachusetts. 


tt 


Daniel H. Reynolds. 


Ohio. 


Missouri. 


Daniel M. Frost. 


New York. 


Alabama. 


Archibald Gracie. 


New York. 


" 


Danville Leadbetter. 


Maine. 


South Carolina. 


Clement H. Stevens. 


Connecticut. 



The recalling of the names of these gallant officers of the 
Southern Army who were of Northern birth brings me to 
remark that the sentiments that prompted men to espouse 
the cause of the North or South were instilled by the teach- 
ings of their surroundings and formulated by their environ- 
ments. Whether a man was a Unionist or Secessionist de- 
pended almost entirely upon where he lived and his teach- 
ings. Many a Northern soldier sealed his devotion to his 
cause with his blood, who if he had lived and been educated 
in the South would as freely have given his life for the Con- 
federacy, and vice versa. 

The words "Confederate soldier" stood as a synonym of 
courage. There were some cowards, as there have been in 
every army that ever floated a flag, but there were not many. 
If I were to attempt to give the names of the Confederate 
soldiers who came under my observation whose courage was 
always conspicuous, it would require countless pages. 



150 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

I shall select from the mighty list stored in my memory 
only a few names, which I present as the names of officers 
who were true exemplars of the standard Confederate sol- 
dier. They are all taken from the Twelfth and Twenty- 
third regiments of cavalry, to which I was attached at differ- 
ent times, and Chew's battery and McClanahan's battery, 
which were closely connected with the two regiments re- 
spectively. The list is as follows: Asher W. Harman, 
colonel of the Twelfth ; Thos. B. Massie, lieutenant-colonel 
of the Twelfth; Lewis Harman, adjutant of the Twelfth; 
George Baylor, lieutenant of the Twelfth, Granville East- 
man, lieutenant of the Twelfth; Roger Chew, colonel of 
Chew's battery; James Thompson, major in Chew's bat- 
tery, killed at High Bridge; Harry Gilmor, captain in 
Twelfth cavalry, afterwards major of Gilmor's battalion; 
Emanuel Sipe, 'captain in Twelfth; George J. Grandstaff. 
captain in Twelfth; Fielding H. Calmese, major of 
Twenty-third; M. C. Richardson, captain in Twenty-third; 
A. J. Adams, captain in Twenty-third; J. W. Drew, cap- 
tain in Twenty-third; Carter Berkeley, lieutenant in Mc- 
Clanahan's battery. 

Holding these men as exemplary Confederate soldiers 
and conspicuous for their courage, let us consider what con- 
stitutes courage; in a word, what is courage? What is it 
that strengthens a man in the storm of battle and times of 
danger, and makes him face perils and die if need be for a 
cause or a principle? It is nonsense for any man to tell me 
that he likes to hear bullets whizzing and shells shrieking- 
about him, crimsoning the ground with human blood and 
dealing death to human beings all around him. No king or 
prince, private or officer, peasant or highborn subject, if he 
were to swear upon the Bible most Holy, that he delighted 
in such perils, would I believe. God has implanted in every 
human being an aversion to danger. He has endowed him 
with the instinct of self-preservation, and to avoid dangers, 
steer clear of pit-falls and dead-falls, destructive missiles 
and the vapors and miasma that breed distempers and dis- 
ease. This is the rational, natural, normal man. His op- 



Till; PERSONNEL OF THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 151 

posite is an unnatural, abnormal, and irrational being of 
God's creation, fit only for a madhouse. 

What then is true, manly courage? 

I can formulate no better definition than by quoting the 
words of Joanna Baillie: 'The brave man is not he who 
feels no fear ; for that were stupid and irrational ; but he 
whose noble soul subdues its fear and bravely bears the 
danger nature shrinks from." Or by quoting Plutarch : 
''Courage consists not in hazarding without fear, but being 
resolutely minded in a just cause"; with this amendment 
"or a cause he believed to be just." Or by quoting Welling- 
ton : "The brave man is he who realizes his danger, but 
faces it firmly and resolutely, and not he who like a horse 
heedlessly rushes forward, not realizing his peril." 

Many a man went into battle with blanched cheek and 
trembling limb and never faltered, however thick came the 
rain of bullets or shower of shell. 

At this late day it is unnecessary for me to declare that 
the Confederate soldier believed his cause was just. No 
body of men would ever have enlisted under a flag and for 
four years exposed their lives and scattered their wounded 
and dead from the Pennsylvania hills to the plains of Texas, 
fought until they were shoeless and almost naked, suffered 
the pangs of hunger almost to starvation, left mothers, 
wives, daughters and sisters to struggle unaided to keep 
body and soul together — unless they believed in the right- 
eousness of their cause and the sacredness of the principles 
they were maintaining and defending. 

The Southerners have been styled "rebels." I accept the 
appellation; it is not at all offensive to me. The right of 
secession has been claimed by many able and distinguished 
jurists and constitutional lawyers, but I have never been 
convinced that the right existed. The arguments pro and 
con have always left me in doubt, with an inclination in my 
mind against the abstract right. But in spite of charters, 
compacts, and constitutions, a people who conscientiously 
believe they have been oppressed and wronged and can se- 
cure no redress have the inborn right to throw off the yoke 



J 52 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

that galls and strike for their liberties. I would rather be 
termed a rebel than a secessionist. The former makes no 
attempt to shield himself behind an asserted reserved right 
in a compact; the latter seeks to justify his action by as- 
serting a compact or constitutional right, to be exercised at 
the will and pleasure of a State. I do not believe the fathers 
ever intended to create a Union of States to be broken at 
any time by a discontented State. It would have lacked all 
cohesive power, and it would have been as unstable as "a 
rope of sand" — a Union to-day; a broken and dismembered 
Union to-morrow. 

Yes, I prefer the term "rebel" to the term "secessionist." 
I would rather stand upon the eternal principles of the De- 
claration of Independence and upon which the fathers of the 
Republic acted, than upon the assertion of an implied right 
claimed under the compact between the States. 

George Washington and his compatriots were rebels, and 
gloried in the term, because they believed in their heart of 
hearts that their cause was just. Why should the followers 
of Davis and Lee disdain the term "rebels"? They were 
just as much in revolt against the United States Government 
as were the people of Massachusetts when they threw over- 
board the tea in Boston harbor. I remember with what 
gusto and feeling the Confederate camps would often re- 
sound after nightfall with the refrain : 



*&' 



''Rebels! 'tis a holy name! 

The name our fathers bore 
When battling in the Cause of Right 
Against the tyrant in his might, 

In the dark days of yore. 

"Rebels ! 'tis a patriot's name ! 

In struggles it was given; 
We bore it then when tyrants raved. 
And through their curses 'twas engraved 

On the doomsday-book of Heaven. 

''Then call us rebels, if you will — 
We glory in the name - 
For bending under unjust laws, 
And swearing faith to an unjust cause, 
We count a greater shame." 



THE PERSONNEL OF THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 1 53 

This is the way I feel in this year of our Lord, 1904: 
that is, I feel that from 1861 to 1865 I was a rebel, and that 
with heart and soul, might and main, as one of the units in 
the 600,000 soldiers the South had on her rolls, I strove to 
make the revolt a success and to establish the independence 
of the South and place the Confederate Republic among the 
nationalities of the earth, and to float her flag of stars and 
bars in every pathway of commerce, in every harbor and 
over every sea of the inhabited globe. But there is no 
longer a spirit of revolt or rebellion in my bosom. With 
Lee's surrender at Appomattox, though feeling as keenly 
as mortal man could feel the downfall of Southern hopes, I 
took my oath of allegiance to the Government of the United 
States "without mental reservation or secret evasion of 
mind." 

The Confederate when he took his oath of allegiance to 
the United States choked back many an emotion and took it 
because there was nothing else for him to do. He could not 
leave the country. He would have been prevented. If he 
could have made his escape he had no place to which he 
could go, and he had no money, for a basketful of Con- 
federate money would not have purchased a potato; it was 
of course worthless, and had been virtually so for months 
before. I think I have heard General Gordon, in illustrat- 
ing the worthlessness of our currency toward the close of 
the war, tell the story of a fellow who was offered $5,000 
for his mule in the winter of 1864-65, when he replied: 
"Do you take me for a fool ? I just paid $1,000 to have this 
mule curried." I paid to Mr. Spence, merchant tailor in 
Richmond, in December, 1864, $1,800 for the last uniform 
— coat, pants and vest — I purchased ; the coat I have now. 
And in the last days of February, 1864, I paid $100 for 
four Havana cigars in Mobile, Alabama, that had run the 
blockade. 

But when the Confederate soldier took his oath of alle- 
giance he did so in truth, ''without mental reservation or 
secret evasion of mind" ; and while, as I have said, he took 



154 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

it with emotions, in fact with a heaving breast and deep 
sigh and wry face, he kept it faithfully. 

The Confederate would not have left the country if his 
way had been clear and his pocket filled with greenbacks, for 
he would not have deserted his land in her blight and deso- 
lation, nor his home where his loved ones were struggling 
in poverty. He was too much of a man to turn his back on 
his land, home and kindred. Vivid before his mind were 
spots, and many of them, which had been "so devastated 
that a crow flying over them would have to carry his own 
rations," as General Sheridan declared in his message to 
the Secretary of War after his famous raid of 1864 through 
the Shenandoah Valley. 



CHAPTER XVI II 

A TRYING EPISODE AFTER Till; WAR. 

I am Indicted at my Old Home for Acts of War — Requisition made on 
the Governor of Virginia for me — I Call on the Governor — His 
Advice — My Petition to President Johnson and the Result — A 
Change in Sentiment at My Old Home — A Tribute to Governor 
Pierpont. 

There was an occurrence in the fall of 1865, resulting 
from the War, and so trying and important an episode in 
my life that it should be related in these reminiscences. 

As already stated, my home was at Berkeley Springs, Vir- 
ginia, now West Virginia, and I operated in that section to 
a considerable extent during the days of the strife; and by 
reason of my thorough knowledge of the country I was 
always, with a few men, more or less successful on my ex- 
peditions, attacking small Federal forces, tearing up rail- 
road tracks, and in some instances destroying railroad prop- 
erty. Being in a hostile country I seized, under orders, 
horses and cattle, and brought them out for the use of the 
Confederate Army. Finally the Governor of West Vir- 
ginia offered a reward for my capture, but while the reward 
was no doubt an incentive to many to make the effort, no 
reward was ever paid, for I was never captured. 

In the summer of 1865 indictments were found against 
me. They gave me no concern, for I believed they had been 
found under the stress of passion, and that reason would 
soon resume its sway and the disposition to punish me for 
fair and legitimate acts of warfare would subside; but I 
was mistaken in my judgment. Passion did not cool. In 
October I was informed that the Governor of West Vir- 
ginia had made a requisition upon the Governor of Virginia. 
Honorable Francis H. Pierpont, for me, and that the sheriff 
of Morgan County would leave in a day or two for Rich- 
mond with the requisition. This stirred me to the utmost. 
I employed Messrs. Sheffey and Bumgardner, of Staunton, 



I 56 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

as my attorneys ; they prepared a petition for a writ of ha- 
beas corpus, addressed to Judge Lucas P. Thompson, of the 
Augusta Circuit, to be presented in the event Governor Pier- 
pont honored the requisition. Acting under the advice of 
my attorneys, I took the train the next morning for Rich- 
mond for the purpose of seeing Governor Pierpont. I ar- 
rived in the evening and stopped at the Exchange Hotel. 

The next morning I walked up to the Executive Mansion, 
and was shown into the Executive Office, where I found the 
Governor at his table. I introduced myself to him, told him 
of the requisition, and gave him an account of my opera- 
tions which had led to the indictments, and said in conclu- 
sion : "Governor, everything I did was legitimate and gen- 
erally under orders. I give you my word of honor I shall not 
leave the country. I appeal to you as a citizen of a State 
whose Executive you are to protect me from the wrong 
that is being attempted." He replied: "I have neither 
seen nor heard of any requisition. What relation are you 
to John O'Ferrall?" I said, "I am a son of John O'Ferrall, 
and I am a relative of the Zanes and Moores of Wheeling, 
whom you no doubt know" ; he was from the Wheeling 
section. 

He said : "I served some years ago in the legislature 
with your father and we were close personal and political 
friends. I know your relatives, the Zanes and Moores; 
they are excellent people. By the way, there was a young 
O'Ferrall, a boy, elected clerk of Morgan County, a while 
ago. What has become of him?" I replied, "Governor, it 
was I who was elected clerk." "Is that possible," said he. 
"Then you gave up your office to go into the Confederate 
Army, and that has got you into this trouble." He 
stopped talking, and for some seconds seemed to be in deep 
study. Then he said : "This thing is all wrong. The 
war is over. Both sides did wrong. You may have acted 
improperly, and some of your acts may have been unjusti- 
fiable, but I see no reason why you should have been picked 
out from the number who did as bad as you did or perhaps 
worse. I advise you to employ counsel and bring the mat- 



A TRYING EPISODE AFTER THE WAR 157 

ter before President Johnson and secure protection ; I think 
he will grant it; I will write him.'' I thanked him most 
heartily for his advice, and said, "But, Governor, what 
about the requisition?" He said: "Leave that matter in 
my hands? You say that you do not intend to leave the 
country. Now go home and do as I tell you." I shook 
hands with him, the pressure of his hand indicating where 
his heart was; he followed me to the door of the old man- 
sion, and his parting words were, "Do as I tell you." 

The night of this day, about ten o'clock, in company with 
two Confederate comrades, I walked into the office of the 
Powhatan Hotel, now Ford's, and I found on the register 
the names of the sheriff of Morgan County and his posse, 
consisting of five men. Six men had come on to take me 
back to my dear old home to be tried upon the charges con- 
tained in the indictments. I knew every man — the sheriff 
had been my father's friend and mine; his posse consisted 
of young men with whom I had been raised, had gone to 
school, played ball and shot marbles, wrestled and tusseled 
on the school-house campus with, and but for the assurances 
I had from Governor Pierpont I am sure I would have added 
trouble to trouble. 

The next morning, which was Wednesday, I returned to 
Staunton, and on my arrival I went immediately to the offi- 
ces of my attorneys and related to them the result of my 
interview with Governor Pierpont. On Thursday I re- 
ceived the following telegram from the Governor : "The 
requisition has reached me. Do as I told you." 

The petition to President Johnson, reciting all the facts, 
was promptly prepared. Judge Hugh W. Sheffey took the 
first train to Richmond ; there he laid the petition before the 
Governor, and he endorsed it as strongly as language could 
do; from Richmond Judge Sheffey proceeded to Washing- 
ton and presented the petition to the President, and after 
some days — days of intense suspense and anxiety to me — 
he wired me, "All is well," lifting from my spirits a weight 
most mighty, and the next day he returned to Staunton and 
delivered to me the paper, relieving me of all fear of trouble 



158 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

and bringing happiness into my home. With a heart full 
of gratitude I wrote Governor Pierpont, and invited him 
to be my guest at any time he might visit Staunton. The 
following summer he spent a night with me on his way to 
the springs. 

At my old home there was much excitement. Sentiment 
was divided. We had an old colored servant, "Uncle 
Sam," who had remained loyal to my mother during the 
entire war. On the evening the return of the sheriff was 
expected there was quite a crowd in town, and "Uncle Sam" 
was on the lookout, while my mother and sisters were gath- 
ered together, in tears. 

Finally the sheriff and his posse were seen some distance 
off, coming from the railway station. "Uncle Sam" dis- 
covered they were returning without me, and sobbing with 
joy he rushed to where my mother and sisters were, ex- 
claiming, "Miss Jane, they are coming, and thank God they 
haven't got him!" Many rejoiced that the sheriff had 
failed in his mission, while some extreme and desperate men 
were greatly angered and were violently demonstrative. 

It was several years after this occurrence before I learned 
what passed between the sheriff and Governor Pierpont. 
The particulars were then given me by Hon. Charles H. 
Lewis, who was Secretary of the Commonwealth under 
Governor Pierpont, and Minister to Portugal during the 
Administration of President Grant. 

Colonel Lewis and my father had been warm friends. 
When the Colonel heard of the requisition he went immedi- 
ately to see the Governor at the Executive Mansion, and 
condemned in emphatic terms the act of the Governor of 
West Virginia. He was present when the sheriff arrived 
at the Executive Office. The Colonel told me the inter- 
view was very short; that the Governor simply looked at 
the paper and said to the sheriff: "I have heard of this 
requisition. I will take it and consider it when I have plenty 
of leisure. You can return to your home. The war is 
over and we want peace." 



A TRYING EPISODE AFTER THE WAR [59 

My visit to Governor Pierpont was the first time I had 
ever entered the Gubernatorial Mansion. Little did I think 
I would ever occupy it, and yet twenty-eight years after my 
visit to him I was elected Governor, and in the same room, 
with my table in the same place, I administered to the best 
of my ability the affairs of the State. Many times during 
my four years, in the stillness of night as I sat in the very 
spot where Governor Pierpont sat as he listened to my state- 
ment of facts and gave ear to my appeal for protection from 
a grievous wrong, has my mind run back to that ever-mem- 
orable October day. 

It is with extreme pleasure that I here refer to the great 
change that a few years wrought in the feeling and senti- 
ment of the little mountain county of Morgan. In 1879 I 
visited Berkeley Springs, and the night after my arrival I 
was serenaded by the town band. I stepped forward sim- 
ply to express my appreciation of the honor, but I was com- 
pelled to do more — a speech was demanded. Emotions filled 
my breast. 

I stood under the porch-roof of my boyhood home — 
where grand-parents and father had died; where brothers 
and sisters had been born and where some had died. In 
sight of where I stood was the church-yard where my 
kindred dust reposed, the playground of my school days 
was near by ; memories fast and thick came trooping around 
me. I was treated with the utmost respect, and in the band 
were two of the sheriff's posse who with him made their 
pilgrimage to Richmond in 1865. In 1880 I was invited to 
deliver a Fourth of July speech at the old place. I accepted, 
and spoke from a stand erected under the far-spreading 
branches of a huge oak where I had on Independence Day 
twenty years before made my first Fourth of July speech at 
a Sunday-school picnic, and when the skies were clear of 
war clouds. I received a most cordial welcome — all war 
feeling was gone, all animosities had been buried, and the 
Unionists and Federal soldiers of 1861-65 cheered the patri- 
otic sentiments of a Rebel Confederate soldier with warmth 
and enthusiasm. This was my last visit to Old Berkeley, 



l6o FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

and if I were to return there now I have no doubt I would be 
as lonely as was Rip Van Winkle when he returned to his 
home town after his long sleep in the Catskill Mountains. 

Recurring for a moment to Governor Pierpont, my re- 
gard for his memory prompts me to say that his heart was 
as warm as ever beat in a human breast. He was opposed 
to secession and was an ardent Unionist. 

He had been elected Governor of what was termed the 
"reorganized State of Virginia" on the 20th of June, 1861. 
Subsequently the State of West Virginia was formed and 
admitted to the Union and A. I. Boreman was inaugurated 
as Governor. In May, 1865, President Johnson issued an 
order for the enforcement of the Federal laws in Virginia, 
and recognizing the administration of Governor Pierpont as 
the loyal government of the State. The Governor at once 
assumed his executive duties in Richmond, and continued 
until April 4th, 1868, when he was succeeded by Henry H. 
Wells by virtue of military appointment, Virginia being 
shorn of her Statehood, and designated "Military District 
Number One." Governor Pierpont's duties were difficult 
and perplexing, but he was amiable and kind, and his ad- 
ministration was as conciliatory and conservative as the or- 
ders from Washington permitted. He was truly a good 
man, and died at a ripe age at his home in Fairmont, West 
Virginia, beloved by all his people. 



CHAPTER XIX 

THK HORRORS OF WAR. 

Chickamauga— An Exhibition of Valor and Courage— The American 
Soldier Unequaled in Fighting Qualities— His Ability to Stand 
Privations— His Obedience to Orders— An End to His Powers— 
The Only Solemn Hour— The Humors and Witticisms of Camp— 
The Noble Marylanders. 

The hideousness and horrors of war have never been fully 
depicted. 

Many times have I stood before battle-scenes as portrayed 
on canvas by the brushes of masters, but not one of them 
conveyed to my mind the true idea of a real field of carnage. 
I believe the scene of a great battle is simply indescribable. 
Wellington said: "Take my word for it, if you have seen 
but one day of war, you would pray God that you might 
never see such a thing again." 

Particularly do I speak of our fratricidal strife of the 
nineteenth century, for it surpassed in its streams of blood 
and crimsoned acres any war in the world's history. 

Think of Chickamauga, where the losses on the two sides 
reached 25,000 in killed and wounded, and where the per- 
centage of losses was three times as great as the seven 
famous battles of Lodi, Zurich, Wagram, Waterloo, Ma- 
genta, Valmy, and Solferino. Think, too, of Antietam. 
where more killed and wounded were scattered than on any 
field of a single day's fighting recorded in the annals of time. 
With what force do these facts attest the desperate fighting- 
qualities and heroism of the American soldier, without re- 
gard to sectional or geographical lines. 

On the 15th of May, 1864, I witnessed an exhibition of 
American valor and courage by about two hundred and 
forty boys from fifteen to eighteen years of age, which has 
never been surpassed, and will never be eclipsed through 
the ages to come. These boys composed the corps of the 
Virginia Military Institute, known as the West Point of the 
11 



1 62 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

Confederacy. They had come from every State in the 
South to be educated at this splendid institution of learning 
established at Lexington in 1839, and from whose class- 
rooms Stonewall Jackson, who was a professor, walked in 
1861 to the Pantheon of eternal fame in 1863. 

At the Battle of New Market the Confederate authorities 
were hard pressed to mobilize a sufficient force to meet 
Sigel, who was moving up the Valley, so in their extremity 
the Virginia Military Institute Corps was added to the small 
force which had been hastily gathered together under Gen- 
eral John C. Breckenridge. 

The battle was fought on an open field of rolling ground, 
and the Confederates made the attack, and were exposed to 
a terrible fire from many guns as they advanced for a long 
distance without protection of any kind. With the step 
and steadiness of "regulars" these boys, each company with 
boy officers, marched across this open and exposed distance, 
keeping up perfect alignment, losing some men, among them 
Major Scott Shipp, commander, who was wounded, until 
they were close enough for their fire to be effective, when 
they let drive a volley or two, and then the command 
"charge" was given by Captain Henry A. Wise, first cap- 
tain, now Superintendent of Public Schools of Baltimore 
city, and away they went with bayonets fixed, and in a few 
minutes they had routed the regiment of stalwart men in 
their front, captured some artillery, and immediately turned 
it upon their retreating foe with deadly effect, for they were 
trained as artillerists as well as infantrymen at their Mili- 
tary School. Never for an instant, from the command "for- 
ward" until they had routed and driven the foe in their front 
from the field, did they halt or falter. Whenever one of 
them fell, killed or wounded, the gap closed up, and when 
shell and leaden hail were tearing, raking, and piercing their 
line they kept it in as perfect shape almost as if they had 
been on dress parade. 

I was with my cavalry regiment, occupying an elevated 
position on the right of our forces, and saw the whole of our 
infantry line, while the fight was going on, except a few 



THE HORRORS OF WAR 1 63 

hundred yards on the left, where the line dropped off down 
the slope to a branch of the Shenandoah River. 

The loss of the corps, in killed and wounded, was about 
fifty, or one-fifth of their number. I repeat, that never in 
the annals of time did a body of boys — all in their teens, 
many low down, all beardless — achieve such renown and 
glory. 

Of course, I know there were innumerable instances ot 
boy heroism in the Northern Army, and it would give me 
pleasure to record them if I had knowledge of such, but my 
position excluded me from observing them. I should be 
glad to read instances of the like from some writer who wore 
the blue, but it would be impossible for him to relate an 
instance of such an aggregation of boy heroes in a single 
battle as that of the Virginia Military Institute Corps, on 
the 15th day of May, 1864, in the classic Valley of the Shen- 
andoah in the Battle of New Market, where a monument 
now stands bearing the inscription of the names of the 240 
smooth-faced, beardless youths whose deeds have been im- 
mortalized in song and story. 

Not only is the American soldier unequaled in his fighting 
qualities, but his powers of enduring fatigue, hunger, and 
suffering are unsurpassed. Stonewall Jackson's army 
seemed to be able to march any distance and any length of 
time that necessity or emergency might require, without 
food, sleep or rest. For instance, on a Friday, at twelve 
o'clock, Jackson's army was nearly sixty miles from Stras- 
burg, while on Sunday evening, about three o'clock, the 
whole army was at Strasburg, and all this after the army 
had been marching almost continuously for nearly thirty 
days, and fighting much of the time. 

I have known a brigade to live for many days on green 
corn and fruit, not a morsel of meat or bread crossing their 
lips, and toward the close the Confederate was fortunate in- 
deed if he could keep his haversack fairly supplied with 
parched corn. 

The soldiers of Lee's army who during the last year were 
shoeless, with lacerated feet bound in old rags as they made 



1 64 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

their snail-like way, suffering constant pain, could have been 
counted by the thousands. Still, however intense the fa- 
tigue, however severe the gnawing of hunger, or however 
torturing the pain and suffering, there was not a murmur. 
The endurance and heroism was simply sublime. 

There is another characteristic of the American soldier 
that is worthy of note. It is his obedience to orders and 
submission to discipline. In the armies of the Confederacy, 
and I have no doubt in the armies of the Union, there were 
in many regiments, and even brigades and divisions, num- 
bers of private soldiers who in intelligence and judgment 
were vastly superior to their commanding officers, yet they 
obeyed promptly every order and conformed themselves, 
without a word, to every rule of discipline. 

No encomium too high could be bestowed upon the rep- 
resentative American private soldier. His deeds reared his 
commanding officer to the realms of eternal fame, sent his 
name upon the wings of the wind to the farthermost sec- 
tion of the inhabitable globe, engraved it upon imperishable 
tablets, wrote it in never-fading letters in the skies of glory, 
embalmed it in the affections of the people, and caused tow- 
ering monuments to be erected to his memory; while he, 
the private soldier, fell at his post to fill perhaps an "un- 
known" grave, without even a drum beat to his memory as 
the rude spade rounded up his mound. He had volunteered 
to go "where bugles called and rifles gleamed," and with 
steady pulse and unflinching mien he gave his life for what 
he had been taught was right. 

But while endurance and fortitude are striking character- 
istics of the American soldier, there is necessarily an end to 
his powers. He is human flesh and blood. 

So, in spite of all, the Confederate Army finally reached 
a point when but a handful was left to sight the rifle, pull 
the lanyard, and wield the sabre. Appomattox was the 
fated spot, and the 9th day of April, 1865, the fated day. 
There and then the Army of Northern Virginia, that had 
dipped its conquering banners in the commingled blood of 
the blue and gray upon so many fields, had been reduced to 



THE HORRORS OF WAR 165 

less than 8,000 organized infantrymen with arms, and its 
whole number, including the sick and disabled, was only 
25,000. Its idolized commander had been pitted against 
five separate distinguished Federal commanders-in-chief — 
McClellan, Pope, Burnside, Hooker, and Meade, and yet 
the stars and bars had been kept proudly streaming in the 
breezes. It was not until the intrepid and persistent Grant 
was assigned to the command of the Army of the Potomac 
that the Confederate banner was furled, and this was not 
done until by constant blows and incessant hammering, and 
the daily mustering of fresh troops, Lee's army, half fed, 
feeble and weak, was reduced to a fragment, and its im- 
mortal commander, impelled by the instincts of humanity, 
and feeling that further resistance could only result in the 
shedding of more blood, the making of more widows and 
orphans, in a cause that was lost. Then and not till then 
came the surrender of the little jaded and worn army, the 
furling of its bullet-riddled and tattered flags, and the stack- 
ing of its remnant of rifles. Then and not till then was the 
cause of the South plunged into the abyss of eternal defeat. 

While I have no right to speak for a Union soldier, I am 
sure I voice his sentiments when I declare that he regarded 
the Confederate soldier as worthy of his steel, on every field 
where they met, on every plain where they fought, whether 
the stars and stripes or the stars and bars floated in triumph. 

They were both American soldiers, in their veins coursed 
American blood, and in their bosoms throbbed American 
hearts. 

Nothing was more wonderful than the glee and cheerful- 
ness of the almost naked and half-fed men who followed 
Lee with unfaltering devotion to the hills of Appomattox. 
The sound of Dixie or the Bonny Blue Flag would bring 
cheer after cheer, however red the battle glare, however 
dense the sulphurous smoke, however thick the minies 
crackled, however demonlike the shells shrieked, however 
thick the dead were strewn, and however slippery was the 
ground with blood. 



1 66 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE) SERVICE 

The only solemn hour in Southern or Northern 
camp was the meditative hour after battle, when com- 
rades and messmates were missing, and then too 
another hour when the bands at nightfall would strike 
up "Home, Sweet Home." Every soul then melted, 
every eye then kindled. I have heard both sides cheer until 
they were almost hoarse, while the bands played Northern 
and Southern National airs, and I have heard every cheer 
hushed instantly, and the stillness of midnight sweep over 
each camp, as the bugles and horns would break into "Home, 
Sweet Home." It would have the most subduing and melt- 
ing effect, and there is no man that lives to-day who loves 
near so well the strains of this immortalized song as the 
soldier who passed through the battle of brothers, whether 
he fought under the flag that glistened with its cross or 
spangled with its stars. 

The humors and witticisms of camp and field were as 
variant as sea-shell forms on the beach. Many have already 
appeared in these reminiscences, but more crowd so rapidly 
on my memory that it seems that I must put some of them 
in perpetual form. 

There was an Irish mess in my regiment. One night I 
heard Tim say to Mike : "Mike, I left some whiskey in me 
haversack whin I went out this avening. Where is it, 
Mike?" Mike replied : "Tim, why don't you ask me some- 
thing aisy? Ye might as well have asked me where the 
dust of St. Patrick rests." It is well known that there has 
been a dispute for generations among Irishmen, as to where 
this patron Irish Saint was buried. 

At the Second Battle of Bull Run, when Jackson had 
by strategy and fast marching got into the rear of Pope's 
army, and while waiting for Longstreet he was fighting with 
great desperation, an old Texan said : "Well, boys, I have 
all the faith in the world in Stonewall, and feel sure he's 
going to bring us out all right, but it looks mighty much to 
me like he has cut off a bigger piece this time than he can 
chaw." 



THE HORRORS OF WAR 1 67 

The old fellow was about right as things looked, but Jack- 
son knew what he was doing, and about six o'clock in the 
evening, with the aid of Longstreet and Stuart, and the 
whole army under the command of Lee, a mighty Federal 
rout occurred and a glorious Confederate victory was 
achieved. 

The following story went the rounds of the camps. A 
certain regiment had reached on its march a section where 
there had never been a soldier. The farmers supplied them 
with eatables of all kinds in profusion. One fellow loaded 
himself up well and went off and took a seat on a log. He 
had in his haversack a quantity of slapjacks, dough fried in 
grease, and he commenced to eat his slapjacks instead of 
the "pies and things" he had just drawn from the farmers' 
wagons. A comrade asked him why he was eating his old, 
tough and hard slapjacks when he had at his side such fresh 
and good eating. He replied, "I can't afford to throw them 
away ; I must eat them to save them, and to make room for 
what these ladies have given me." "Well," said his com- 
rade, "you remind me of an old maid who lives near my 
home. She was clearing out her bureau drawers and she 
found two blister plasters in them ; she wanted to get them 
out of her drawer, and yet didn't want to throw them away, 
so she gently raised her skirts and slapped them on her 
thigh as a good place to keep them. The result was they 
gave her fits. So you didn't want to throw your slapjacks 
away and you ate them to save them. Now watch out, you 
will get fits too before long." Sure enough, during the 
night two surgeons were working to save the fellow's life, 
and they barely succeeded. Economy stood a Confederate 
soldier well in hand, but this fellow carried his economy 
too far. 

I might continue to relate camp stories almost ad infin- 
itum, heard during the four years of war and retained in 
my memory, but I must refrain. 

As a fitting finale of the narrative part of these reminis- 
cences, I come to notice a certain band of Confederate sol- 
diers who gained undying fame, glory and renown where- 



1 68 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

ever the Confederate colors, riddled, tattered and torn by 
bullet, shell and canister, floated. I refer to the sons of 
Maryland who cast their fortunes with the South, and with 
unflinching fidelity followed her cause until the last shot 
was fired and the last musket stacked. 

On no pages where the deeds and achievements of the sol- 
diers of the Confederacy are painted should that band of 
true, brave, and heroic men, who left their homes just across 
the waters of the historic Potomac, humming the air of 
"Maryland, my Maryland," or the "Bonnie Blue Flag," to 
link their fortunes for weal or woe with the cause of the 
South, ever be forgotten. At the sound of the war trumpet, 
or rather when Virginia seceded, Maryland at heart was as 
loyal to the Confederacy, as any State in the Southern sister- 
hood. Her soul was filled with a determination to resist any 
invasion or the crossing of her territory by armed bodies 
bent on the subjugation of the seceded States. She ran up 
the flag of secession and it floated proudly in the breezes. 
She resisted the passage of the first Federal troops through 
Baltimore, and the streets were made red with Maryland 
blood. But her unorganized and unarmed citizens could not 
cope with organized and equipped troops and her effort was 
futile. 

She strove with all her power to assert her will and be- 
come a State in the little Republic, but her waters were soon 
under Federal control and her people were held in subjec- 
tion, and dominated by pointed guns from her bays and 
rivers. She was rendered powerless as a State to take her 
stand with the South in the coming conflict. But while she 
was bound hand and foot, thousands of her sons made their 
way to where the stars and bars were streaming. Safely in 
"Dixie" they scattered all over the Southland, and joined 
commands in every State, but a large proportion of them 
attached themselves to the Army of Northern Virginia, and 
now many, very many of them sleep the sleep that knows 
no waking in Virginia's soil, and upon their mounds flowers 
are strewn at each recurring Memorial Day. 



THE HORRORS OF WAR 1 69 

I knew numbers of these gallant men in the Army of 
Northern Virginia, and served in the same command with 
some of them, notably the intrepid Harry Gilmor, the author 
of "Four Years in the Saddle," who was a captain in the 
Twelfth Virginia Cavalry at the same time I was a captain 
in it. A more daring, dashing soldier never flashed a sabre. 
I knew, of course, General Bradley T. Johnson, whose deeds 
are worthy of the brightest pages of the war's history. I 
knew intimately the whole-souled and chivalrous Captain 
Frank Ward, who was seriously wounded in the passage of 
the Federal troops through Baltimore in April, 1861. I 
knew Maj.-Gen. Arnold Elzey, who lost a leg; Brig.-Gen. 
George H. Steuart, and Brig.-Gen. Charles S. Winder, who 
was killed at Cedar Mountain, August 9. 1862. I shall 
leave these distinguished soldiers where other writers, in 
glowing terms, have placed them. I knew Colonel Dorsey, 
Major Goldsborough, Captain Myers, who was killed at 
Gettysburg, and Captain Welsh; their records require no 
word from my pen, they were unsurpassed. 

But while Maryland was loyal, like Virginia her sons were 
not all true to the cause of the South, and she furnished sol- 
diers to the Federal side. 

I was in the fight at Front Royal, where the Confed- 
eracy's First Maryland met the Federal's First Maryland. 
and in which the former defeated and captured the latter, 
including its colonel. The righting was furious, but our 
boys were in to win or die, and while their ranks were thin- 
ned, they won most gloriously. 

In every Memorial Hall, on every monument or memorial 
pile where the names of the States that formed the Confed- 
eracy may be inscribed, a place should be assigned for the 
name of Maryland. Her heart was with the cause, thou- 
sands of her sons helped to fight its battles, myriads of them 
died on fields of carnage, and she did not in fact secede 
because restrained bv a mightv hand. 



CHAPTER XX 

CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE GREAT CONELICT. 

The Question of which Side was Right Will Remain Unsettled to the 
End of Time— A Reunited People— The Bitter Memories of the 
South — The Spirit of the South not Crushed— Lincoln's Death a 
Great Disaster to the South— His Death the Spring from which 
Flowed the Countless Woes of Reconstruction— The Whole Struggle 
Without a Parallel in the Annals of War— The Foremost Chieftains 
of the South and North— All Loyal to the Flag that Floats over the 
Country. 

Nearly forty years have passed since the fall of the South- 
ern Confederacy. Nearly forty summers have shed the fra- 
grance of their flowers upon the mounds of the blue and 
gray who yielded up their lives on fields of carnage or hos- 
pital cots. Nearly forty winters have spread their white 
mantle over the graves of the sons of the North and South 
who died for their convictions. 

Whether the South was right and the North was wrong, 
or the South was wrong and the North was right, will re- 
main an unsettled question to the end of time. Each section 
will have its own tribunal, its own court of last resort, its 
own people to pass upon the issue joined from 1861 to 1865. 
In the homes and universities, and institutions of learning of 
each, their respective creeds and doctrines will be taught, 
and thus from generation to generation the youth of the 
South will learn that she was right, and the youth of the 
North will learn that she was right. 

But we are a reunited people, with one flag, one Consti- 
tution and one destiny. Each State is an integral part of 
this Union and stands the co-equal of her sisters under the 
aegis of the Constitution of this land. Let the teachings of 
the two sections continue, for they can do no harm. The 
South, the loser and sufferer, has long since become recon- 
ciled to her defeat; and the North, the winner and con- 
queror, has long since recognized the sincerity of the South's 
position and the honesty of her convictions. 



CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE GREAT CONFLICT IJl 

The South has far more bitter memories than the North. 
Both lost heavily in blood and in brave men ; both heard 
the wails of widows, the moans of mothers, and the sighs 
of sisters, but the North emerged with prosperity smiling 
upon her and with scarcely a sign of the "battle's red blast" 
or a trace of the hoof of war. Her people were thrifty; 
her homes were untouched ; her farms unharmed ; her cities 
and towns, villages and hamlets were buzzing with the 
wheels of industry, and her harbors were crowded with the 
crafts of every clime. 

The South was left a land of desolation, wrecks, and 
ruins. Lone chimneys filled the landscape, standing like sen- 
tinels over the ashes of happy homes ; her barns, mills, and 
factories had been licked away by fiery tongues ; her indus- 
tries were all hushed; her fields were in weeds and her 
ploughshares were rusty ; her cities and towns, villages and 
hamlets were almost as waste places, and their people, all in 
the depths of poverty, went about the streets like mourners. 

But the fall of the Confederacy had not crushed the spirit 
and manhood of the South, and her men, with the same 
courage that they had fought her battles, began their fight 
against adversity and poverty. Mighty indeed was the 
struggle; great were the obstacles they had to encounter, 
and stupendous were the difficulties they had to overcome. 
I shall not run through the days of Militarism and Recon- 
struction. Passion, not reason, then sat upon the throne of 
power. Carpet-baggers held high carnival, and serpents 
reached pinnacles as high as eagles perch. Undismayed, the 
people of the South continued their struggle, and finally 
State after State rejoiced as the dawn of prosperity began 
to break and carpet-bag rule began to wane. It took years 
for the South to become regenerated and disenthralled, but 
righteousness finally came, and each State found herself 
basking in the sunlight of prosperity, home rule, and State 
sovereignty. 

It is the concensus of Southern opinion and has been for 
many years, that the South would have fared far better but 
for Booth's bullet and President Lincoln's death. It would 



172 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

have been the policy of the illustrious President, in whom 
the people of the North so confided as to make his will the 
law, to restore the seceded States to their places in the Union 
with as little friction as possible. His heart was kind, he 
bore no malice, the rebellion had been suppressed, his earnest 
purpose had been accomplished — the restoration of the Un- 
ion. In his first inaugural address he was most conciliatory, 
and declared that "Though passion may have strained, it 
must not break our affections. " He spoke of "the mystic 
cords of memory" stretching all over our land. He was 
loath, even in 1863, to issue the Proclamation of Emancipa- 
tion, and did it, as he declared, "as a fit and necessary war 
measure for suppressing the rebellion," and excepted from 
the operation of his proclamation all loyal territory, includ- 
ing forty-eight counties in West Virginia and seven counties 
and two cities in Virginia. 

But his tragic death aroused the passions of the North, 
and for some reason there was a disposition to visit ven- 
geance upon the Southern States for the diabolical deed, 
when the South condemned and reprobated the horrible act 
with all the feeling and sincerity of a brave and chivalrous 
people. 

No human being with certainty can tell ; God only knows, 
what the policy of President Lincoln would have been to- 
ward the South, but unless the nature of the man had been 
changed, if he had lived the South would have escaped the 
oppression and tyranny she so long suffered. 

When Carpenter's picture of the Signing of the Emanci- 
pation Proclamation was presented to the Government in 
1878, he who had been the Vice-President of the Confeder- 
acy, the pure and gifted Alexander H. Stephens, put on 
record his estimate of Lincoln. 

After speaking of his long acquaintance and close intim- 
acy with him, Stephens said : 

Of Mr. Lincoln's general character I need not speak. He was warm- 
hearted ; he was generous ; he was magnanimous ; he was most truly, 
as he afterwards said on a memorable occasion, "with malice toward 
none, with charity for all." He had a native genius far above his 



CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM Til 1C GREAT CONFLICT I 73 

fellows. Every fountain of his heart was overflowing with the milk 

of human kindness. From my attachment to him, so much deeper was 
the pang in my own breast, as well as of millions, at the horrible 
manner of his taking off. This was the climax of our troubles, and 
the spring from which came unnumbered woes. 

Thus spoke this great Southerner. 

There is an abiding belief in the minds of the thoughtful 
men of the South that if President Lincoln had lived Presi- 
dent Davis would never have been made a vicarious sufferer ; 
no dark and foul casemate would ever have confined him : 
no clanking chains would ever have been riveted about his 
limbs; no sentinel would ever have stood day by day and 
through the silent hours of night with his eye fixed upon 
him ; no strong men would ever have seized the weak and 
emaciated form in the filthy casemate and borne it to the 
rocky floor, and there held it until the brawny arm of a 
blacksmith shackled the ankles and fastened irons upon the 
wrists. 

No such cruel, brutal, and cowardly deed would ever 
have been tolerated, much less ordered, by Abraham Lin- 
coln. 

There is also a deeply-rooted belief in the minds of the 
thinking men of the South that Mr. Stephens was right 
when he declared that the assassin's deed was the spring 
from which came our countless woes. There would have 
been no military districts with Federal bayonets glistening 
everywhere among an unarmed and helpless people; no ar- 
rests by the orders of provost marshals upon charges of irre- 
sponsible and debased renegades and negroes ; there would 
have been no carpet-bag governments supported by Federal 
soldiers, lording it over a people who were defenseless, im- 
posing taxes to enable them to enrich themselves, and levy- 
ing upon the substance of the land to sustain them in their 
riotous living; the terms "carpetbagger" and "carpetbag- 
ism" would be unknown words, and would have no places in 
our vocabularies. 

The Confederate States of America is now only a mem- 
ory; for four years it lived; it is now only enshrined in the 



174 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

hearts and affections of its people ; it was founded upon the 
eternal principles "of a government of the people, for the 
people, and by the people" ; it had its President and his Cab- 
inet, its Vice-President and its retinue of officials, and a 
Great Seal ; it had its Senate and House of Representatives. 
It was a Republic, simple and pure, in form and principles, 
and during its life its people sang: 

"Our hearts, our hopes are all with thee; 
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, 
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, 
Are all with thee, — are all with thee." 

And then when defeat came, and all hopes were buried, 
the poet laureate of the South tuned his lyre to touch South- 
ern souls, and immortalized in song the glories of "The 
Conquered Banner." How pathetic are his words; how 
thrilling his lines : 

"Take that banner down! 'tis tattered; 
Broken is its staff and shattered, 
And the Valiant hosts are scattered, 

Over whom it floated high. 
Oh, 'tis hard for us to fold it, 
Hard to think there's none to hold it, 
Hard that those who once unrolled it 

Must now furl it with a sigh. 

"Furl that banner! True, 'tis gory. 
Yet 'tis wreathed around with glory, 
And 'twill live in song and story 

Though its folds are in the dust ! 
For its fame on brightest pages, 
Penned by poets and by sages, 
Shall go sounding down the ages — 

Furl its folds though now we must." 

But as I have said, "The Conquering Banner" which was 
not furled had its glories as well as "The Conquered Ban- 
ner," yes, many glories; and the glories of both armies are 
the common glories of America. 

We were divided, as were our fathers divided, and we 
had reached a point when the issues, as the South believed 
and I think the North believed, should be settled. All ef- 



CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE GREAT CONFLICT 175 

forts at friendly settlement had failed ; all attempts at com- 
promise had been futile. There were fundamental differ- 
ences between the sections; slavery was not the real cause, 
it was used to stir the sections ; but the causes lay deeper. 
The North was commercial and the South was agricultural 
— there was a clash of interests ; legislation beneficial to one 
was likely to be injurious to the other. The North favored 
a strong central government, the South believed in a govern- 
ment limited and confined to the distinctly delegated powers ; 
the former was for a broad construction, and the latter a 
strict construction of the Constitution. Harmony was im- 
possible; the issue had to be fought out, and it took four 
years to do it. 

That struggle has no parallel in the annals of war. It was 
American blood against American blood ; it was American 
valor and endurance against American valor and endurance. 
It was as all must admit, an unequal contest in numbers and 
resources ; the North had a Navy, the South had none ; the 
North had unlimited credit, the South had none ; the North 
was able to put in the field 2,700,000 men, the South only 
600,000 men; still the South had the advantage of acting 
on the defensive, fighting in a friendly land and generally 
choosing her own battle-grounds. This statement, I think, 
is fair and impartial. 

None but Americans could have conducted a defensive 
warfare under such circumstances so long as did the South- 
erners, and none but Americans under the circumstances 
could have ended the conflict so soon as did the Northerners. 
Fredericksburg and Malvern Hill, Chickamauga and Gettys- 
burg will ever stand upon historic pages as evidences of su- 
preme American valor, while the stories of hundreds of 
other fields will bear no less testimony to the fighting quali- 
ties, chivalry, and daring of the American soldier, whether 
he fired and charged under the stars and bars or the stars and 
stripes. 

It seems to me that it would be a day most glorious if the 
government of our forever-reunited land would erect side 
t>y side, on the Capitol grounds at Washington, on pedestals 



176 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

of equal height, statues of Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. 
Lee, and let them stand as the two greatest military chief- 
tains America has ever produced. The glory of each is the 
common glory of the North and South and the glory of the 
armies that carried these great commanders to pinnacles of 
fame, 

"Above all Greek, above all Roman fame." 

Whv should this not be done? Was not Grant the fore- 
most Chieftain of the North? Did he not bring victory to 
the Union cause in less than twelve months after he assumed 
the command of the Army of the Potomac? Many generals 
had sought in vain for three years. 

Was not Lee the foremost Chieftain of the South? Did 
he not meet and defeat overwhelming numbers on field after 
field, under selected generals, and keep the flag of the Con- 
federacy streaming in the breezes for four years? 

Did not Grant display nobility of soul in his magnanimity 
to his conquered foe at Appomattox ? Did he not add leaves 
to his chaplet of fame after the surrender in demanding that 
every paroled Confederate soldier should be protected, and 
that the Government should carry out in good faith the 
pledge he had given his brave but vanquished foe? 

Did not Lee glorify still more his name when he cast 
aside, after his untarnished sword was sheathed, all offers 
of pecuniary aid and offers of lucrative position, and as- 
sumed the duties of educating the youth of the land and in- 
stilling into them fidelity and loyalty to their reconstructed 
country ? 

It is said that two Americans were making a tour of Eu- 
rope some years ago ; one had been a Union officer, the other 
a Confederate officer. At some point a group of foreign 
military officers were criticising Grant and Lee, when the 
Americans most earnestly defended both — the Union officer 
defending Lee and the Confederate officer Grant. 

The Spanish-American War extinguished the last spark 
of sectional feeling between the North and South. When 
war was declared there was no Southerner or Northerner 



CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE GREAT CONFLICT lj~ 

left within the expanse of this Union. All were Americans 
and all rallied around their flag. The boy with the blood 
of a rebel in his veins was as quick to respond to the call of 
his country as the boy in whose veins coursed the blood of 
a Union soldier, and they enlisted together, touched elbows 
in the line, fought side by side, and slept under the same 
blanket ; they stopped not to inquire, they cared not whether 
they were to be led by a Young or a Wheeler. The sons of 
living and departed Union and Confederate Veterans 
quenched any remaining ember of sectional animosity, 
whether in Maine or Texas, South Carolina or Massachu- 
setts, on the Atlantic Coast or Pacific Shore. 

At peace then with each other, with fraternal love one for 
the other in the breasts of the sections, and the Union ce- 
mented and more firmly united than ever in its history, with 
the terms Northerners and Southerners no longer heard, but 
only the broad and proud name of Americans sounding — 
why, I ask again, should not statues of America's two great- 
est and most illustrious military chieftains stand under the 
shadow of the dome of America's Capitol? They both be- 
long to America; their fame and glory are the common 
heritage of her people, no State or section can claim them. 

Looking back through the vista of the past ; recalling the 
mighty events of the four years of carnage, the causes and 
the results; with years for reflection and for passion to cool, 
I cannot say that I am glad the cause for which Lee fought 
and Jackson died failed, but I do declare that I am as proud 
to-day of my country as was ever any Roman in the height 
of Rome's greatness, and when her eagles shadowed the 
earth from Lusatania to the Caucasus. 

While I cannot speak by authority, it is my honest con- 
viction that the surviving Confederate veterans are as loval 
to the flag that now floats over them as they were to it in 
their maturing manhood, when on Independence Day the 
martial strains of "The Star Spangled Banner" ringing out 
from the drum and fife, or patriot voices, making the wood- 
lands echo with the anthem, 
12 



1/8 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

"Columbia, .Columbia to glory arise, 
The queen of the world and the child of the skies!" 

stirred their blood and thrilled their souls. 

They all recognize the grandeur and sublimity of this 
American Republic, the cynosure of all nations' eyes, 
respected by all principalities, cherished as a friend and 
feared as a foe. They still have, as they will ever have, 
their memories, just as the Federal veterans still have, and 
will ever have, their memories — yet they remember that fra- 
tricidal strife came to them and their Northern brethren as 
a heritage from the fathers, and that it was waged by both 
without personal malice and for what each had been taught 
was right. 

They failed to achieve their independence, but out of their 
failure has grown a Republic so mighty in resources and so 
strong in her millions of robust, brave, chivalrous and 
strong-hearted sons, that she ranks among the nations of the 
earth, almost like Saul among the men of Israel. 

It is said, "All is well that ends well," and it may be that 
the failure of the Confederacy was a blessing in disguise to 
the South, and a benediction to the Republic established by 
the fathers in spite of the giant power of a haughty king. 
It may be that in God's Providence the blood that crimsoned 
so many fields and the drapery of mourning that hung in so 
many homes were the means of building up and cementing 
in concrete mass an American Republic, with a star for 
every State and a State for every star, that will weather all 
storms, and grow in strength and power, and we trust in 
virtues, until the Mighty Angel with his right foot upon the 
sea and his left foot on the land shall swear by Him Who 
liveth forever and ever, "that there shall be time no longer." 



PART II 

THE AUTHOR'S OFFICIAL LIFE 



CHAPTER I 

WASHINGTON COLLEGE — GENERAL LEE. 

My First Official Position — I Run for Office at the Age of Seventeen — 
Graduated from Washington College — General Lee as a College 
President — His Influence Over the Students — Incidents of his 
Administration — The Graduates of My Law Class. 

At the age of fifteen years I was appointed to an impor- 
tant position and entered official life. This sounds strange, 
but it is a fact easily verified by many livinp witnesses, as 
well as court records. It came about in this way. My 
father was the clerk of the Circuit and County Courts of 
Morgan County, Virginia, now West Virginia, elected at the 
first election after freehold suffrage was abolished and man- 
hood suffrage adopted. 

I was then a lad of eleven years of age, and my father re- 
quired me to spend my school vacations in his office and to 
render such clerical service as he prescribed. Directly after 
I had attained the age of fifteen years my father died, leav- 
ing my mother with five children — three daughters and two 
sons, of whom I was the eldest. His means were quite lim- 
ited and my mother was thrown in a large measure upon her 
own resources. The lawyers of the county, thinking I was 
competent under the training I had had to discharge the du- 
ties of clerk, and with a view of assisting my mother in her 
struggle, petitioned Hon. Richard Parker, Judge of the Cir- 
cuit Court of Morgan County, to appoint me clerk pro tem- 
pore of his court. 

The Judge, who resided at Winchester, thirty-six miles 
distant by country road, wrote to me to come to see him, and 
I rode to Winchester at once. The morning after my arrival 
I wended my way to his residence, a stately old mansion on 
an eminence in the suburbs of the town, with extensive 
grounds and original oaks rearing their heads far toward 
the clouds, and a broad walk leading from the front gate to 
wide steps. It was the month of March ; the day was sting- 



1 82 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

ing cold, the wind was blowing fiercely, and the great oaks 
were swaying their huge bodies to and fro and their strong 
limbs were lashing each other with the fury of a hurricane. 
My heart was sad over the death of my father. I was ex- 
cited at the idea of appearing before the judge for examina- 
tion as to the duties of a court clerk, but I summoned all my 
courage, and with a firm step approached the door and took 
hold of the old time "knocker" and rapped. A servant ap- 
peared and directed me to the Judge's office. He was a 
quiet, sedate man, but he greeted me cordially, put me at ease 
quickly, and in the most informal manner conducted the ex- 
amination, and in a short time, much shorter than I had ex- 
pected, it was over, and turning to his table he wrote my 
appointment as clerk pro tempore of the Circuit Court of 
Morgan County, and handed it to me. Solomon in all his 
glory was not prouder than I was on that cold and cheerless 
March day. Other honors high came to me in after years, 
but none which I appreciated more than my appointment by 
the lofty and pure judge, whose heart I could feel was beat- 
ing in sympathy with mine, bruised as it was. 

Thanking my benefactor for what he had done for me, I 
bade him good-by and left the old mansion. County Court 
was in session in Winchester, and being almost a total 
stranger I gravitated to the court hall. Soon some of the 
lawyers heard that Judge Parker had appointed a fifteen- 
year old boy clerk of the Circuit Court of the County of 
Morgan, and seeing me, a strange boy, sitting back in the 
hall, they jumped to the conclusion that I was the boy who 
had been so highly favored; so one of them, Major L. T. 
Moore, came to me, introduced himself, and asked me if I 
was not "young O'Ferrall?" I replied, "Yes, sir." He 
then invited me to take a seat within the bar. I went for- 
ward with him and he introduced me to the lawyers present, 
all of whom received me pleasantly and congratulated me. 
In a few minutes a gentleman entered the bar whom I had 
not seen. I observed at once that he was no average man, 
and that the entire bar showed him marked consideration. 
He was graceful in every movement; his face was hand- 



WASHINGTON COLLEGE — GENERAL, LEE 1 83 

some; his manner was genial and most pleasant. Very 
soon I was introduced to him, and he was told of my good 
fortune. Without a single word he put his arm in mine, 
led me to where there were two chairs close together, and 
seating me in one he took the other. Then he spoke to me 
for the first time. He said : "My boy, I knew your father 
and loved him. I am so glad Judge Parker has given you 
this appointment." He then poured into my ear praises of 
my dead father and words of encouragement to me, his eyes 
melting and mine filling with tears as he continued to speak. 
Never did words fall in more mellow ground ; never did 
words sound sweeter to me. Never did my soul swell more 
with courage and determination. His beautiful language, 
flowing in a constant stream, charmed me. and I felt like 
asking him to stay when he told me he had to leave me to 
fill some engagement. 

This man was J. Randolph Tucker, whose name after- 
wards rang from ocean to ocean, and from Maine to Califor- 
nia, and of whom I shall have more to say before I finish. 

I served as Circuit Court Clerk for several months, when 
the vacancy occasioned by the death of my father was filled 
by an election for his unexpired term. The new clerk re- 
tained me as his deputy. 

When I was seventeen years old an election was held for 
clerk for a full term of six years. The incumbent declined 
to run, and the leading member of the local bar, Joseph S. 
Duckwall. suggested to me my candidacy for the position of 
County Court Clerk. Thinking he was not in earnest, I did 
not treat the suggestion seriously ; but he assured me he was 
in earnest, thought I could be elected, and that I owed it to 
my mother to make an effort to secure it. I said : "You 
lose sight of the fact that I am only seventeen years of age. 
I am not old enough to be elected." He replied, "The Con- 
stitution fixes no age for county officers. The only question 
would be the validity of your bond, but that would be void- 
able, not void, and in my opinion you are eligible." T re- 
plied. "I will run"; and he wrote my card announcing my 
candidacy. 



184 FORTY YKARS OF ACTIVE SKRVICF, 

I bought a horse and started out to make a house to house 
canvass. My father's old friends received me warmly and 
pledged their support pretty generally. For a little while it 
looked as though I would have no opposition, but then a 
gentleman far advanced in life — easily old enough to have 
been my grandfather, and who had been defeated by my 
father six years before, took the field against me. The con- 
test became spirited. It was youth against old age, a boy 
of seventeen against a man of sixty-five. I enjoyed the race 
with all my soul. The day of the election came and I re- 
joiced with joy unspeakable when the setting sun brought 
me a handsome victory. The voting then was viva voce, 
every voter proclaiming his vote, and having it entered on 
the poll-book for the candidate of his choice. The state of 
the polls at each precinct was known all through the day, 
and at sundown I had sufficient information from the vari- 
ous polling places to warrant the conclusion that I had 
beaten my venerable and respected competitor by a decided 
majority. 

People are fond of novelties, and the novel idea of electing 
a boy had taken hold of the voters like fire in dry stubble, 
and they flocked to the polls to vote for me; besides, the 
fact that "I was the son of my father" stirred his friends, 
who loved his memory, and they worked like beavers to se- 
cure my election and thereby aid his dependent family. 

The returns were most gratifying to my friends, and they 
showered their congratulations upon me. On the day after 
the election a countryman who had supported me heartily 
rode into the town, and hailing me on the street, with a jolly 
laugh exclaimed, "By golly, my boy, you ran faster than 
a scared rabbit!" 

In a few weeks I qualified and entered upon the discharge 
of my official duties for a term of six years. Things went 
smoothly with me for two and a half years, then war clouds 
began to gather. The people of my county were divided 
into Unionists and Conditional Unionists, with only here 
and there a secessionist. 



WASHINGTON COLLEGE — GENERAL LEE 1 85 

As soon as Virginia seceded, feeling that my allegiance 
to her was paramount to my allegiance to the Union, I en- 
tered the Confederate cavalry and served, as I have stated, 
to the end of the struggle. When all was over I went to 
work immediately and engaged in business pursuits until I 
entered the law class of Washington College, at Lexington, 
Virginia, in the fall of 1868. In June, 1869,1 graduated and 
received my B. L. diploma, signed by the president, the im- 
mortal Robert E. Lee — one of the few diplomas, compara- 
tively, he ever signed, for his career as president was cut 
short by his death on October 10, 1870, after an incumbency 
of only five years, but an incumbency in which the nobility 
of the man and the sublimity of his character stood out be- 
fore the world in bolder relief, if possible, than when he was 
defending a cause around which clustered the affections of 
the Southern people, and commanding the Army of North- 
ern Virginia, the grandest army that has ever been, or will 
ever be martialed until the Archangel of God with trumpet 
strong shall proclaim the end of time. 

Washington College was a venerable institution. It was 
established in 1776 and its original name was Liberty Hall. 
In 1796 George Washington made a donation to it of one 
hundred shares of stock in the James River Canal Company, 
which had been granted to him by the legislature, and its 
name was changed to Washington College. The Cincin- 
nati Society gave nearly $25,000 to it in 1803, and in ap- 
preciation of this endowment the "Cincinnati professor- 
ship" was founded. Afterwards it was favored by other 
endowments. 

It had an able faculty, and many distinguished men had 
pointed to it with pride as their "Alma Mater," still its an- 
nual matriculations had never been large prior to the time of 
which I shall now speak. In 1865 the presidency of the in- 
stitution was tendered to General Lee. He hesitated alxnit 
accepting the trust, assigning as his reason, in a letter writ- 
ten to the College Committee, that he feared he would be 
unable to discharge the duties of the position "to the satis- 
faction of the trustees or to the benefit of the country" ; 



1 86 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

that the education of youth required not only great ability, 
but he feared more strength than he possessed, as he did not 
feel able to undergo the labor of conducting classes in regu- 
lar courses of instruction. 

Continuing this letter, he said : 

There is another subject which has caused me serious reflection, and 
is, I think, worthy of the consideration of the Board. Being excluded 
from the terms of amnesty in the proclamation of the President of 
the United States of the 29th of May last, and an object of censure 
to a portion of the country, I have thought it probable that my occu- 
pation of the position of president might draw upon the College a 
feeling of hostility, and I should therefore cause trouble to the insti- 
tution which it would be my highest desire to advance. 

I think it the duty of every citizen, in the present condition of the 
country, to do all in his power to aid in the restoration of peace and 
harmony, and in no way to oppose the policy of the State or General 
Government directed to that object. It is particularly incumbent on 
those charged with the instruction of the young to set them an example 
of submission to authority, and I could not consent to be the cause 
of animadversion upon the College. 

Should you, however, take a different view, and think that my ser- 
vices in the position tendered to me by the Board will be advantageous 
to the College and country, I will yield to your judgment and accept 
it, otherwise I must most respectfully decline the office. 

The Board instantly assured General Lee that no damage 
to the College would result from his installation as president, 
and urged his acceptance of the place. He then accepted, 
and was installed October 2, 1865, and the old College took 
on, as if by magic, new life and vigor, and boys and young 
men, and soldiers whose education had been interrupted by 
the War, flocked to its class-rooms from every State and 
section of the South, and many came from Northern and 
Western States, until the numbers ran up to six or seven 
hundred. 

General Lee's influence over the students was marvelous ; 
they all adored him ; each of them would almost rather have 
lost his right arm than to have done an act that would have 
lost him General Lee's confidence and respect. They all 
knew him personally, and he knew them and could call each 
by name whenever they met. His memory of names and 
faces was remarkable ; it is related that on one occasion a 



WASHINGTON COLLEGE — GENERAL LEE 1 87 

certain name was read from the rolls and he insisted that 
there was no student by that name; at least he said, "I can- 
not recall him, and I thought I knew every student in the 
College. When did he come?" An investigation showed 
that the student had entered very recently and while he was 
absent, so that he had never met him. 

He changed the mode of discipline which had been in 
vogue from the date of the College charter. It was 
the mode that the schools generally had adopted from 
time perhaps immemorial. It was the system of espionage — 
of watching and reporting the movements and conduct of 
the students — a system which tended to lessen self-respect, 
and to lead to evasion and concealment rather than frank- 
ness and ingenuousness. He put every student upon his 
honor and broke down the barrier that had so long stood be- 
tween him and the faculty. There was nothing like military 
discipline, no red-tape rules, and any student could see him 
and converse with him at any time during office hours, and 
even in the privacy of his home, with as much freedom as 
if the relation of father and son existed between them. 

The change was most salutary. Every student's sense of 
honor was acute; his self-respect was retained; his pride 
in the College was fostered, and rare indeed was there an 
infraction of the rules or departure from the line of decorous 
conduct. He was considerate of the waywardness of youth, 
and was careful never to act hastily, and when compelled to 
act he did so generally by quietly and gently informing the 
parent of the course of the son, and when neither warnings 
nor parental influence could do any good, he would request 
the withdrawal of the obdurate boy, rather than cast a stig- 
ma of expulsion upon him. 

He kept himself well informed as to the progress of every 
student, and examined the weekly reports with care, and re- 
tained to a most remarkable degree in his memory the marks 
and standing of each student. 

It is related that a visitor inquired of him on one occasion 
how a certain student was succeeding in his studies. Gen- 
eral Lee replied, "Well, he is an orderly and well-behaved 



1 88 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE) 

young man, but there seems to be no danger that he will in- 
jure the health of his father's son." He then proceeded 
from memory to give the marks the young fellow had re- 
ceived the previous month, all very low, and then added, 
"I do not desire our young men to really injure their health 
by hard study, but I want them to come mighty near to it." 

For several years after peace the young men of the South 
could not look upon the negroes as their equals under the 
law, or as possessing the same legal rights as themselves. 
Many of the negroes about Lexington, as well as everywhere 
else, were greatly puffed up with the idea of freemanship, 
and were self-assertive, presuming, and irritating. The stu- 
dents of Washington College could not tolerate the disre- 
spect and impudence which was frequently shown them by 
these people, and they resented it, and in some instances 
carried their resentment too far. At one time it was ru- 
mored that a body of them were preparing to break up a 
public, I think a political, meeting of the colored people near 
Lexington. It was the year I was attending the College. 
The intention of the students reached General Lee's ears. 
Immediately he had posted in the most conspicuous place an 
order stating that the faculty of the College had learned that 
some of the students intended or had threatened to disturb 
a meeting of colored people to be held near Lexington. He 
proceeded to express the disbelief of the faculty in the ru- 
mor. He then said : "The President requests all students 
to abstain from attending this or any other similar meeting, 
and thinks it only necessary to call their attention to the ad- 
vantage of attending - strictly, as heretofore, to their impor- 
tant duties at the College, and in no way interfering with the 
business of others." 

It is needless to say that there was no disturbance of the 
meeting. I was told that not a single student was seen at or 
near it. General Lee's order was enough ; instead of dis- 
turbing the meeting, I believe the students would have pre- 
vented, if necessary, any interference with it. 

During General Lee's presidency a religious spirit per- 
meated the institution. A chapel was built under his direc- 



WASHINGTON COLLEGE — GENERAL LEE 189 

tion, as planned by him, and although he was a strict Epis- 
copalian, the pastors of every religious denomination in the 
town, by his invitation, filled the pulpit — each having a par- 
ticular Sabbath assigned him. At all of these devotional 
exercises General Lee was present, and his fervor, daily 
walk, and never-failing attendance upon the preaching of 
The Word produced such effect upon the students that many 
of them embraced "the principles of the Christian faith and 
the sanctions of the Christian religion." 

Never did an institution of learning grow and prosper in 
five years as did Washington College under the presidency 
of Robert E. Lee. He was an ideal president, his whole 
soul was in his work. His executive ability has never been 
excelled; his influence never equaled; his zeal never sur- 
passed. 

With positions high and lucrative open to him all over 
the Southern land ; with offers of pecuniary aid coming to 
him, in his poverty, from every direction; with all lands 
proclaiming his greatness, sounding his praises, and exalting 
his virtues; with his image on the walls of every home, 
humble or stately, from Virginia to Texas ; adored by all his 
people and admired and respected by his and their foes, he 
accepted the presidency of a Virginia College, able to pay 
him but a meagre salary, and assumed the task of directing 
the education of the Southern youth, and instilling into their 
minds, not only the elements of learning, but the spirit of 
loyalty to their reunited land and faithful obedience to all 
its laws, and the spirit too of that religion without which no 
government can stand safely upon its foundation. 

Thus he spent the last five years of his eventful and glori- 
ous life. 

"The Father of his Country 

Stands above that shut-in sea, 
A glorious symbol to the world 

Of all that's great and free; 
And to-day Virginia matches him — 

And matches him with Lee." 



19O FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

There were thirteen graduates in my law class ; of them, 
J. Harvey McCleary, of Texas, has been Attorney-General 
of his State, and a judge of one of the territorial courts, by 
appointment of President Cleveland; he is a brilliant man. 
D. Gardner Tyler, of Virginia, a son of the late President 
Tyler, has been a member of Congress and State Senator, 
and is now a Circuit Court Judge in Virginia ; a strong and 
popular man. Hill Carter, of Virginia, is and has been for 
years a practising attorney in Richmond, and stands among 
the leaders of the bar of the State. Henry C. Lowery, of 
Bedford, has been a member of the State Senate several 
terms and is a successful lawyer ; he has, as he merits, the 
esteem and confidence of his people. John S. Pendleton, of 
Kentucky, has been a judge of a court in Atlanta, Georgia, 
and is now a railroad attorney ; he is a man of fine ability. 

Several of the graduates died not long after their gradu- 
ation, among them Dunlop, of West Virginia, who located 
in Kansas City, Missouri, where he was fast forging his 
way to the front, when by the accidental discharge of a pis- 
tol he met his death. 



CHAPTER II 

IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH. 

Beginning the Practise of Law — Rockingham County, Virginia — In the 
Legislature — Virginia's Debt — The Make-up of the Legislature — 
Raleigh T. Daniel — I go Upon the Bench — Judicial Duties — A 
Notable Case — The Effort to Save a Woman From the Gallows — A 
Brave Wife's Loyalty and Devotion. 

In August, 1869, after graduating at law, I located in 
Harrisonburg, Rockingham County, Virginia, for the prac- 
tise of my profession, and lived there continuously until 
December, 1893, when I moved to Richmond. 

Rockingham County is perhaps the finest county in the 
Valley of the Shenandoah. Its people are generally of Ger- 
man descent, and are sturdy, industrious, frugal, and pros- 
perous. 

The soil is limestone and the cereals and grasses grow 
luxuriantly. Superb horses — draught, saddle, and light har- 
ness, and magnificent cattle — principally short-horn Dur- 
hams — are raised in immense numbers and constitute an im- 
portant source of revenue to their breeders. The farms are 
usually large, with fine buildings of every description re- 
quired for the purposes of agriculture and stock raising. 

The religious sect known as German Baptists, or Tunkers, 
is very strong in the country, and composes a considerable 
part of the population ; its members, nearly all farmers, are 
most excellent citizens and teach and practice in an eminent 
degree the precept, "Do unto others as you would have 
others do unto you." They are non-combatants in their 
principles, yet it can hardly be said that they always, by any 
means, practise what they preach in this respect. During 
the War between the States the Confederate Congress passed 
an act exempting them from military service upon the pay- 
ment of five hundred dollars, and almost all under fifty years 
of age availed themselves of the provisions of the act, yet 
some of the young Tunkers were in the Confederate Army, 



192 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

and without an exception, so far as I have ever heard, they 
were brave and faithful soldiers. The color-bearer of the 
Tenth Regiment of Virginia Infantry at the desperate and 
signal battle of Gettysburg was a young man by the name 
of Shank, a Tunker, and he fell dead with his colors in the 
van in the thickest of the fray. There are many things com- 
mendatory of these staid, orderly, and law-abiding people I 
might write, but I must desist. 

In November, 1871, I was elected by the voters of this 
splendid county a member of the legislature of Virginia, and 
served through the sessions of 187 1-2 and 1872-3, and the 
Tunkers w r ere among my most earnest supporters. 

This legislature had before it the important question of 
adjusting and settling Virginia's State debt. 

About the year 1838 the State had determined to encour- 
age and foster works of internal improvement, and charters 
were granted to construct canals, turnpikes, plank roads, and 
railroads in different sections, and the State was authorized 
to subscribe for two-fifths of their capital stock. Corpora- 
tions were organized under the various charters and Virginia 
became a subscriber to the capital stock to the extent author- 
ized. She was also empowered to borrow money for the 
purpose of paying for the stock, and to issue her bonds for 
the borrowed money, both of which she did. She had also 
been authorized to borrow money and issue her bonds there- 
for for the erection of eleemosynary institutions and public 
buildings, and this she had done. In this way she had cre- 
ated quite a large debt, amounting in 1861 to about $32,- 
000,000. During the war and up to 1870 she had been un- 
able to pay interest upon her bonds, so that the legislature of 
1869-70 found the total debt, principal and interest, to 
amount to about $46,000,000. In the meantime she had 
been despoiled of much of her territory by the formation of 
the State of West Virginia, all against her will and with her 
voice stifled, by an Act of Congress, sanctioned by a "rump 
legislature," in which twenty-nine counties only, all western, 
were represented. The territory which was thus ruthlessly 
torn from her was prospectively her richest portion, abound- 



IN THE LEGISLATURE AND OX THE BENCH I93 

ing in coal and iron and other minerals and every species of 
timber. She was terribly weakened in her resources, and 
yet the bonds were against her, and West Virginia had 
shown an indisposition to assume any part of the burden of 
the old mother. Virginia, though poor and her wounds, in- 
flicted by war, still bleeding, determined to keep clean her 
spotless escutcheon, and to do what was just and equitable 
between her bondholders and herself. So, animated by this 
spirit and prompted by the highest motive, her legislature of 
1869-70 passed what was known as the "Funding Bill." 
Under the provisions of this bill the principal of her debt 
and accumulated interest thereon were thrown together, and 
Virginia agreed and assumed to pay two-thirds of the ag- 
gregate amount of indebtedness, and for this sum she was 
authorized to issue bonds, in exchange for her old bonds, 
leaving the other third to be assumed or not by West Vir- 
ginia, as her sense of right might dictate; Virginia, how- 
ever, obligating herself to use her best offices in effecting a 
settlement for the bondholders with the new State. But 
though honest in their views, and earnestly desiring to pro- 
mote the State's welfare, the action of the Virginia legisla- 
ture in passing the "Funding Bill" did not meet with the 
approval of some of its members, and a decided majority of 
the people of the State condemned it. 

It was contended by the opponents of the bill that the leg- 
islature had gone too far and acted too generously when it 
converted accrued interest into principal ; that Virginia had 
been in the fiery furnace of war and had lost as no tongue 
could tell or pen describe; that she had lost millions in 
slave property; her fields had been laid waste; her homes, 
barns, mills, and factories had been reduced to ashes ; her 
implements of husbandry broken up or destroyed ; her bank- 
ing institutions had been wrecked ; that she had been stripped 
of a vast part of her territory, to whose future development 
she had looked to immensely increase her taxable values and 
which had been in a large measure the inducement to con- 
tract the debt ; that the only money she had with which she 
could have paid interest for four years was Confederate 
13 



194 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

currency, and this her creditors would not have received if 
it could have been tendered to them; that it was not equit- 
able, under all these circumstances, to require the people of 
the State to pay interest upon interest. 

In the legislative election of 1871 the voters were divided 
upon the line of "Funders" and "Anti-Funders" — support- 
ers and opponents of the "Funding Bill." I was elected to 
the legislature as an "Anti-Funder" and stood with a large 
majority of the body upon that issue, which dominated all 
other issues. There were many strong men in this legisla- 
ture, some of them intellectual giants, and the body was un- 
usually strong in solid, substantial, thoughtful men. 

Richmond has as three of her representatives or delegates 
the brilliant and mature lawyer and scholar Raleigh T. Dan- 
iel, afterwards Attorney-General of the State; the astute 
and close reasoner James H. Dooley, also a lawyer and now 
a prominent financier, and J. Thompson Brown, a cool, 
level-headed business man, and now a most promient real es- 
tate dealer in Richmond. 

Manchester sent the direct and incisive William I. Clop- 
ton, a lawyer of ability by inheritance as well as study, and 
now the honored Judge of the Corporation Court of his city. 
Fauquier County did honor to herself by accrediting James 
V. Brooke as one of her delegates ; a man of great intellect 
and legal learning. Washington County was ably repre- 
sented by the conservative and judicious, yet courageous, 
Arthur C. Cumming. Pittsylvania and the City of Danville 
sent her brainy man of affairs, William T. Sutherlin. Pu- 
laski County commissioned James A. Walker, the famous 
commander of the Stonewall Brigade, a lawyer of rugged 
power. Montgomery sent Gabriel T. Wharton, a distin- 
guished soldier and man of superior judgment. Albemarle 
had as her delegates James C. Hill, an experienced, sound, 
and safe legislator, and Jeremiah A. Early, whose head was 
full of sound sense. Loudoun furnished William Matthews, 
always alert and constant in the discharge of his duties. 

Orange was represented by W. R. Taliaferro, young, but 
wise above his years; and Culpeper by John R. Strother, 



IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH IQ5 

whose judgment was sought on all important matters ; and 
Shenandoah by the erratic but bold and aggressive fighter, 
H. H. Riddleberger, who in after years, during the political 
upheaval of Mahoneism, became a United States Senator. 

Accomac honored Edmund R. Bagwell, and he wore his 
honors with dignity and discharged his trust with signal 
ability. Nelson's delegate was C. T. Smith, who kept up 
with matters of legislation, was always ready to "shy his 
castor into the ring," and was never caught napping. Hen- 
ry's delegate was George W. Booker, a former congressman 
and a vigilant and esteemed member. Rockbridge had the 
chivalrous William T. Poague — as a soldier the peer of any, 
a gentleman of the first water, and a valuable man on the 
floor, and, also, S. M. Donald, whose Scotch-Irish antece- 
dents made him ever-watchful of the interests of his con- 
stituents and of the people at large. Bedford had in Major 
William F. Graves a representative who filled his position 
with the same supreme fidelity he had displayed on the field 
of battle. Greene was represented by Frank M. McMullan 
— an educated gentleman, a ready speaker, an excellent com- 
mitteeman, and one of the truest of the true in everything 
that pertained to the trust reposed in him. Portsmouth City, 
as with one voice, sent her venerable son, John B. Watts, 
whose lofty character, superb bearing, discriminating mind, 
and eloquent tongue drew to him the confidence and admir- 
ation of the entire body, and Norfolk sent Marshall Parkes, 
an unexcelled business man, with an abundance of common 
sense and practical ideas, and Thomas R. Borland, a young 
lawyer who gave promise then of the successful career 
which afterwards attended him. Spottsylvania showed her 
wisdom in selecting as her delegate the veteran editor and 
legislator, John H. Kelley. 

Amherst County sent her favorite son, Robert A. Coghill 
— ranking among the most astute and learned lawyers of 
the State. He was the peer of any member of the House, 
and when aroused his rapid sledge-hammer blows always 
made a deep impression. 



I96 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

Augusta County had in Marshall Hanger, not only a rep- 
resentative who had seen long service in the law-making de- 
partment of the State government, but who was as fine a 
parliamentarian as I have ever seen. He was elected Speaker 
of the House, and no better presiding officer could have been 
selected. 

My colleague from Rockingham County was George E. 
Deneale — "the old man eloquent," as he was called. He was 
trained in the art of legislation, and thirty years before had 
served with my father in the House of Delegates. 

These were all members of the House of Delegates. 
There were others, more or less conspicuous, whom I might 
mention, but I have named enough to show that the Vir- 
ginia House of Delegates of 187 1-2 and 1872-3 was a body 
worthy of the State. 

In the Senate were John E. Roller, from the Rockingham 
district, a young lawyer of promise, a constant attendant 
upon the sessions, a strong debater, a faithful guardian of 
the State's welfare, and who is to-day a leader in his pro- 
fession and a successful man in the affairs of life ; Alexander 
B. Cochran, from the Augusta district, who was one of the 
brainiest men in the Commonwealth and a speaker of great 
power, but his usefulness to his State was cut off at an early 
age by his death ; Abner Anderson, from the Danville dis- 
trict, a safe and sound man, whose influence was felt in all 
matters of important legislation ; A. L. Pridemore, from the 
Lee district, a man of splendid natural ability, a great rough- 
and-tumble fighter, and a most valuable member of the body ; 
A. Q. Holliday and John K. Connolly, from the Richmond 
district; the former quiet in manner, a cogent reasoner, al- 
ways alert and at his post; the latter, eloquent of tongue, 
impulsive and warm-hearted, sometimes in the heat of de- 
bate allowing his enthusiasm to carry him to the point of 
using language that would sting an opponent, but instantly 
in the most delightful manner withdrawing the word or 
words that had caused the smart. 

At this time Gilbert C. Walker, a New Yorker, who had 
settled at Norfolk after the war, was Governor. In 1869 



IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH IQJ 

he had been named by the Democrats, who called themselves 
conservatives, as an expediency candidate against Henry H. 
Wells, who was termed " the carpetbag governor," and was 
elected by a vote of 119,535 to 101,204, and inaugurated 
September 21. 

He was an exceedingly handsome man and a Chesterfield- 
ian in his manners. He was true to the people who had 
elected him and was loyal to what he believed to be the best 
interests of the State. He had favored the passage of the 
"Funding Bill" when it was pending in the preceding legis- 
lature, and he adhered to his position, and opposed its re- 
peal, and the "Anti-Funders" found him arrayed against 
them. 

In a very short time after the organization of the legisla- 
ture the battle over the debt settlement opened, and it was 
warm and animated from start to finish. 

Raleigh T. Daniel, "walking around and about the ram- 
parts of the Constitution," as he expressed it, was vigorous 
in the support of the sacredness of contract obligations and 
in the maintenance of the "Funding Bill" as a settlement 
just to the State and equitable to her creditors. He was 
among the most ornate and accomplished speakers Virginia 
has ever produced. 

His clean-cut English and well-rounded sentences flowed 
from his lips in a constant stream, ready for the printer 
without a change or alteration. There was no sacrifice of 
strength to beauty of expression, as might be imagined; 
there was "no covering up of the fruit with the foliage." 
His arguments were powerful, couched in the choicest and 
most chaste language; no word was ever uttered that was 
not fit for a drawing-room, much less the halls of legisla- 
tion. But as able, brilliant, and cultured as he was, his in- 
fluence was weakened by his intolerance, in fact contempt, 
for the opinions of his colleagues who differed from him. 
He was disposed to regard himself as infallible in his views, 
and his efforts had the effect of intensifying rather than 
mollifying his opponents. When the fight in the House was 
at its height, Mr. Daniel, Mr. Brooke, and three other gen- 



I98 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

tlemen, I think, organized themselves into a committee to 
draft a bill which they hoped would present a middle ground 
upon which the members could stand. Mr. Brooke was se- 
lected to draw a bill and submit it to the full committee ; he 
went to work at once and labored earnestly for several days ; 
then he notified the other members that he was ready to 
submit his bill ; they all gathered in a room of the Exchange 
Hotel, and Mr. Brooke commenced to read his bill. There 
was a very long preamble and many whereases, asserting, 
as its author thought, fundamental principles and self-evi- 
dent propositions of Constitutional law. 

Before he had read many sentences Mr. Daniel became 
restive, and it was apparent that he was taking issue with 
Mr. Brooke in his mind. When about half of the preamble 
had been read he sprang from his seat and exclaimed: 
"Stop, Brooke, stop! For God's sake stop, for the sake of 
the memories of the fathers stop ! You have already where- 
ased away nearly every principle of the constitution, and if 
you go much farther there will not be one left. Stop and let 
us save some. Yes, some." 

Mr. Brooke, who was a fine constitutional lawyer, was 
very much surprised by this outburst of Mr. Daniel, but he 
was a most amiable man, and took what was really a rebuke 
and reflection, good naturedly. The labors of the committee 
were continued for a time, but they were fruitless. 

Mr. Daniel had a habit of talking to himself, or as some- 
body expressed it, of "thinking aloud." Walking leisurely, 
absorbed in thought, up Broad Street one summer evening, 
he was talking to himself when a friend joined him and 
said, "Mr. Daniel, I heard you just now, and have heard you 
frequently, talking to yourself ; pardon me, why do you do 
it?" He replied instantly, "Simply because I want to have 
the pleasure occasionally of talking to a sensible man." He 
was in many respects a unique man, and was admired gener- 
ally for his learning and culture, and universally respected 
for his keen sense of honor and spotless character. 

Nothing of a practical nature was done by the legislature 
of 1 87 1 -2 and 1872-3 in the way of adjusting the State debt, 



in the legislature; and on the bench 199 

but after various futile sessions a settlement of Virginia's 
part was effected, and the debt upon which she pays interest 
was $26,843,067.87, as of October 1, 1903. 

On the first day of January, 1874, I went upon the bench 
of the County Court of Rockingham County — a court of 
probate, with jurisdiction of all county matters, cases of un- 
lawful entry and detainer, and the assessment of damages 
under the right of eminent domain, and original criminal 
jurisdiction of all cases, except where the penalty was death, 
in which the accused had the right to elect to be tried in the 
Circuit Court, but which right was never exercised during 
my incumbency of six years. 

The county being large and populous, my judicial duties 
were onerous. The terms of the court were monthly and 
generally lasted two weeks, so that one half of every year 
was spent by me on the bench. During my six years there 
were many important and exciting criminal trials — the most 
trying and anxious ordeals through which a judge can pass. 

All classes of criminal cases, from petit larceny to high- 
way robbery, burglary, and homicide were before me, and 
to act well the part of holding the scales with an even and 
steady hand was necessarily a source of constant anxiety 
and perplexity. To prevent bias or prejudice from entering 
into the mind and heart either for or against the accused 
kept me communing daily and hourly with my conscience. 
Being compelled like all nisi prius judges to make quick and 
rapid rulings from the bench, without opportunity in case of 
doubt to consult authorities, many times made me desire to 
cast aside the judicial ermine, and yet I retained mv posi- 
tion for my full term, through some peculiar fascination of 
the place. 

During my judicial service there were numerous episodes, 
some of which T think will bear relating. 

On a road at the western base of the Blue Ridge range a 
most atrocious murder was committed. A farmer returning 
home one evening with his wagon was shot from the way- 
side and fell dead under his horses. In a little while a pass- 
ing neighbor found him, and spreading the news others 



200 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

gathered and the dead man was carried to his home. Sus- 
picion pointed to three persons — the widow, her brother, and 
another man of bad reputation — as implicated in the murder. 
They were arrested, but there was no evidence against them, 
and they were discharged; but the suspicion would not 
down, and two years after the commission of the crime they 
were again arrested. At their first hearing they had simply 
denied any participation in the killing or knowledge as to 
the murderer. 

At their second hearing the man with the bad reputation 
was not so discreet, and he insisted upon talking, and the 
more he talked the stronger became the suspicion, and when 
the hearing was over he had done much to lead himself to 
the gallows, and he and the widow and brother-in-law were 
committed to jail to await the action of the grand jury. De- 
tectives were employed and the whole community in which 
the murderous deed was done was active in following up 
clews and searching for testimony. Finally the grand jury 
met and indictments were found against all of them — against 
the man with the bad reputation, whose name was Anderson 
Shififlet, as principal, and against the brother-in-law, whose 
name was Silas Morris, and Louisa Lawson, the widow, as 
accessories before the fact. In the summer of 1877 they 
were tried, and in each case the jury with solemn faces re- 
turned a verdict, "Guilty as charged in the indictment." 
This meant death to all, for under the Virginia statutes mur- 
der by lying in wait, or by poison, or any other wilful and 
deliberate murder is punishable by death, and an accessory 
before the fact suffers the same penalty as the principal. 

Shifflet, the principal, was a low, debased creature, with 
the superstition of a cotton-field negro in the days of slavery, 
and believed in omens and apparitions and signs. He had 
been raised amid environments that made him pale and 
crouch upon the appearance of an ill omen — he could not 
help it any more than a horse can help trembling at the sight 
of a camel. During his trial a bird flew into the court hall 
through an open window and seated itself on a wire 
stretched across the hall, directly over him. He saw 



IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH 201 

it, and instantly he turned ghastly pale, his head 
dropped, and he sank down in his chair perfectly 
limp. It was one of his ill omens; it meant death 
to him. He was the most dejected, crushed, and piti- 
able looking human being I ever saw. In his mind his doom 
was sealed. Before the bird came he had been bright and 
seemed to think that he would at least escape the gallows ; 
after it winged its way into the tribunal of justice and 
lighted just above his head, all animation disappeared, his 
eve became dull and lifeless, and he gave himself up to the 
fate which he was sure awaited him. He was convicted as 
I have said, and was executed; but I am sure none of my 
readers will think that this little creation in God's inscrutable 
plan could direct the current of justice or give token of 
either good or evil to a human being. It has been well said, 
"Skepticism makes a man mad, and superstition renders a 
man a fool." 

The trials of these cases stand among the celebrated crim- 
inal trials of Virginia. As they progressed the develop- 
ments of the plot to murder Lawson were like turning over 
the leaves of a terrible novel, in which marital infidelity was 
being portrayed in its hideous colors, and plans by a woman 
to rid herself of him to whom she had plighted her faith, 
pictured in blackest hue. The evidence against Morris and 
the widow — brother and sister — showed, as found by the 
jury in each case, that the affections of the wife of Lawson 
had been alienated from her husband by a young workman 
on Lawson's farm, and that through the assistance of Mor- 
ris, her brother, Shifflett had been hired for a paltry sum to 
murder Lawson, and that the plot had been deeply laid and 
carried out with the adroitness and cunning of men trained 
in the art of mysterious murder. 

The evidence in the case of Shifflett was absolutely con- 
clusive of his guilt as the principal. As to the justice of his 
conviction I never entertained the slightest doubt, and in no 
way did it connect either Morris or the widow with the 
bloody deed; but the evidence on their trials was entirely in- 



202 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

dependent of that in the case of the principal, and with their 
convictions I was not well satisfied. 

The star witness was the young workman to whom I have 
alluded, the admitted guilty lover of Lawson's wife, and 
who, tiring of her after Lawson's death, discarded her and 
came forward as a willing witness to testify to admissions 
by her of guilt, and also of statements and circumstances 
pointing directly to Morris as an accessory before the fact. 
He was an untutored mountain fellow, but "as sharp as a 
steel trap," and as hard to trip as a Texas broncho. He 
stood the fire of the cross-examination, conducted by able 
counsel, without a slip or a break, and sustained his repu- 
tion for truth by many of his neighbors. The juries believed 
him and convictions followed. 

Motions were made in arrest of judgment and to set aside 
the verdicts, and were overruled, as it was the province of 
the jury to consider and weigh the evidence, and they had 
believed this star witness, and the judge under the law could 
not set the verdict aside, even if he would have rendered a 
different verdict if he had been a member of the jury. 

In a few days sentences of death were pronounced, and 
hand in hand brother and sister, in charge of the jailer, 
were taken back to prison to await the awful day of execu- 
tion, with only one ray of hope — executive clemency. The 
sentence of a woman to the gallows had few precedents in 
the history of criminal jurisprudence in Virginia. Many 
may have deserved it, but, with the rarest exceptions, Vir- 
ginia juries had never got to the point of consigning a 
woman to death by the halter. 

So this conviction and sentence created wide-spread inter- 
est, and aroused the Governor, the chivalrous James L. 
Kemper, and he wrote me to give him the facts in the case, 
which I did. A little while before the day of execution 
came he respited both convicts. Before that respite expired 
he wrote me, as near as I can recall his words, as follows : 
"Can't something be done to save the neck of Mrs. Lawson. 
She is a woman. I do not want her hung if there is any 
reasonable ground to prevent it." I replied : "You have all 



IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH 203 

the facts. I feel as you do and would gladly recommend 
clemency, if I could do so consistently with my judicial oath. 
If the evidence was true (and the jury has so held), she is 
guilty of deliberate, premeditated murder of her husband, 
and under the law the penalty is death. You have all 
power, and if you extend clemency I shall never criticise 
you ; but if clemency is extended in the case of the woman, 
it should be in the case of the man, for the evidence was 
stronger against her than against him." 

A second respite came from the Governor; then soon a 
letter to me to the effect that the thought of hanging a 
woman had so wrought upon his feelings as to disturb his 
slumbers, and in his dreams he could see her dangling in 
the air, and in her death struggles. I replied substantially 
as I had previously written him. 

In a few days two young men from the neighborhood of 
the place of murder — strangers to me — came to my office 
and said to me: "Judge, we want to talk with you about 
the Lawson murder cases. We want to tell you what we 
know. We don't know whether it will amount to anything 
or not." 

I told them to proceed. They then related to me conversa- 
tions they had had with the star witness, the guilty lover of 
Lawson's wife — startling in their nature and directly con- 
tradictory to his testimony on the witness-stand on material 
points. I sent for the Commonwealth's Attorney, and in 
his presence they repeated what they had told me. He and I 
conferred and we both agreed that their statements were 
very important, and if they had been made in court and be- 
fore the jury they would have tended to break down the 
testimony of the star witness and to have induced a different 
verdict. But who were these young men and what were 
their characters for truth and veracity? These were ques- 
tions for inquiry, and the inquiry was undertaken by the 
Commonwealth's Attorney. Soon he reported that they 
were of good character and fair repute, and I at once wrote 
to the Governor recommending executive clemency in both 
cases — the brother-in-law and widow. 



204 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

The Governor acted instantly and commuted the sentences 
to imprisonment for life in the penitentiary, and sent the 
commutations to the Harrisonburg jail by a member of his 
staff, a gentleman who had taken great interest in the cases 
— Captain Charles L. Todd, a prominent and esteemed citi- 
zen of Richmond at this time. Thus by the desire of Gov- 
ernor Kemper to avoid, if possible, the hanging of a woman, 
and his several respites, the lives of these two human beings 
were saved from death on the scaffold. Time blazed the 
way, and it has always looked to me as though the hand of 
God was in their deliverance; that He had induced the two 
strange young men to come forward and tell their story, they 
not knowing whether or not it would have any effect upon 
the question of life or death. 

Morris and the widow of the murdered man were con- 
veyed to the penitentiary to serve life sentences, as they had 
every reason to believe. So far as they could see, nothing 
else was before them ; yet no doubt they hoped some day 
to breathe again the air of freedom, hear the birds sing, see 
the flowers blooming, the woodlands in their verdant foliage 
and the fields bearing their crops, for "hope is the last thing 
that dies in man." 

All these people were mountain people — born and reared 
at the base or in the gorges and passes of the Blue Ridge, 
whose beautiful range divides Virginia's Piedmont and Val- 
ley sections. The wife of Morris had lived all her life amid 
the environments of her humble mountain home, uncultured 
and untutored, but she displayed a fealty to her husband and 
a nobility of character rarely found even in the most cul- 
tured walks of life. She went with her husband to the very 
gates of the prison, there bade him good-by and heard the 
heavy hinges creak and the huge bolts shoot into their 
sockets as the gates closed. Then out into the strange city 
she went, seeking the home of Captain Todd, who had been 
the Governor's messenger to convey the tidings of executive 
clemency. Into this warm and hospitable home she was re- 
ceived, and in it she lived for about eight years, visiting her 
husband in prison, carrying him food from the table of her 



IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH 205 

benefactor, whispering words of hope and cheer into his 
ear as often as the prison rules would permit. With un- 
faltering belief in her husband's innocence she undertook 
to secure a pardon. She made visit after visit to Rocking- 
ham to secure signers to a petition. At first she met with 
little encouragement, but she persisted. 

After three or four visits she secured many signatures, 
among them several of the jurors. In the meantime the feel- 
ing was growing that probably the verdict was wrong, and 
on her next visit the petition was numerously signed, and on 
her last visit she obtained the name of the last juror and a 
large number of the county officials and prominent citizens 
of the county. Returning to Richmond, with her benefac- 
tor, Captain Todd, she went to the Executive Office, laid her 
petition before the Governor, and made her appeal for the 
pardon of her husband. The Governor took the matter 
under advisement, with the result that he not only pardoned 
her husband, but the widow of the murdered man as well. 

So after eight years of prison life, eight years of patient 
and persistent work, eight years of prayer, weeping and 
heart-aches, eight years of a wife's loyalty and devotion to a 
man, felon-clad and from whom the law would have di- 
vorced her any day, this untutored but noble woman re- 
ceived the fruition of her labors, and with her pardoned 
husband returned to the very neighborhood where they had 
formerly lived and started life anew. 

Several years ago I learned they had prospered and were 
doing well. Morris had conducted himself properly, and 
was an orderly, law-abiding citizen, and his wife, as she 
richly deserved, had the respect of everybody. 

In concluding my account of these celebrated trials, con- 
victions and sentences, followed by respites, commutations 
and pardons in the last two, I must refer to a most pathetic 
scene at the sentencing to death of Mrs. Lawson. During 
her trial her little son, eight or ten years of age, was con- 
stantly by her side. When I came to pronounce the sen- 
tence of the law. the most painful duty of my official life, 
nothing I said seemed to touch her until I made an incidental 



206 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

allusion to her little son; instantly she threw her arms 
around him and wept as though her heart would break. It 
was a most striking exhibition of a mother's love. She had 
been apparently almost callous— she had nerved herself for 
the terrible ordeal, but her strength and will power gave 
way at the mention of the child she had borne and nurtured. 
The court hall was crowded with strong men, the eyes of 
many of them strangers to tears, but there was not one 
strong enough to choke back his emotions or keep tears 
from flowing ; there was not a dry eye in the hall. 

This lad, after the removal of his mother to the peniten- 
tiary, was adopted by the sheriff of the county, David H. 
Rallston, a man whose heart was as kind as ever beat in a 
human breast, and well indeed did he do his full part by the 
unfortunate lad. He sent him first to the common school 
and then to the graded school. The boy was a good stu- 
dent, progressed rapidly, stood high in his classes and car- 
ried off many honors. When he attained his majority he 
went to some Western State, and some years ago I heard he 
was succeeding well. 

How true are the oft-quoted lines : 

"Honor and shame from no condition rise; 
Act well your part, there all the honor lies." 

The Commonwealth's Attorney who prosecuted in these 
cases was John Paul, who afterwards served a term in Con- 
gress and was then appointed United States District Judge 
for the Western District of Virginia. He was one of the 
ablest prosecuting attorneys I have ever known ; his con- 
gressional service was creditable, and his career as Judge 
from 1883 to 1902, when he died, was marked with ability 
and with an honesty and uprightness of purpose that drew 
plaudits from the bar of his district, and stamped him as a 
just, impartial, and incorruptible judge. 

The leading attorney for the defense was John E. Roller, 
and well did he act his part and do his duty. Astute, cau- 
tious, and watchful, never tiring, never lacking in quickness 
to object to what he conceived to be an improper question 



IN THE LEGISLATURE AND ON THE BENCH 20J 

and then maintaining his position with great force; search- 
ing and severe in the cross-examination of opposing wit- 
nesses and drawing most skilfully from the witnesses for 
the defense every point favorable to his clients. Between 
the two — Paul and Roller — it was indeed a battle royal and 
a fight to the finish. They were both young men, neither 
forty — the latter, who was the junior, not more than thirty- 
five. 

There were, as I have said, other interesting and im- 
portant criminal trials during my judicial term, but space 
will not suffice to recount any of them, so I must leave the 
incidents connected with them where they are, stored away 
in my memory. 

My six-years term as judge expired on the first day of 
January, 1880, and though I am proud to say no objections 
were raised by even political foes to the manner in which 
I had discharged my judicial duties, the edict went forth 
from a dominant faction of my own political party with 
which I was not aligned that my judicial head must be cut 
off, and when the legislature met, off it went, and in my 
stead a distinguished and highly-esteemed member of the 
county bar who belonged to the stronger faction, Colonel 
Robert Johnston, was elected as my successor. 



CHAPTER III 

STATE POLITICS FROM 1 877 TO 1 882. 

A Memorable Political Convention— A Fight for the Gubernatorial 
Nomination — Mahoneites versus Danielites — Mahone's Political 
Ambition— Formation of the "Readjuster" Party — Mahone's Purpose 
—The State Convention of 1881 — Daniel versus Cameron — I Make 
the Race for Congress — A Hot Campaign — Defeated at the Polls, 
but Win on a Contest — Anecdotes of the Campaign. 

In 1877 a Democratic State Convention was convened in 
Richmond to nominate candidates for Governor and other 
State officers. 

It was perhaps the most memorable political conven- 
tion ever held in the State. The excitement was intense 
and feeling ran high. There were six candidates for the 
first place on the ticket, all distinguished Confederate vet- 
erans — General William Mahone, styled "the hero of the 
Crater," meaning the Petersburg Crater, that maelstrom of 
death; General Fitzhugh Lee, whose gleaming blade had 
made him famous; General William B. Taliaferro, a hero 
of the Mexican War as well as a Confederate veteran, whose 
record was as bright as the morning star; Colonel William 
Terry, among the bravest of the brave of the South's de- 
fenders; Colonel Frederick W. M. Holliday, whose empty 
sleeve told the story of his devotion to the cause all Vir- 
ginians loved, and Major John W. Daniel, whose crutch 
and lame leg bore witness to his loyalty to his State and 
section in the mighty struggle that had bathed his South- 
land in the commingled blood of the gray and the blue. 

The first ballot developed the strength of the various can- 
didates in the following order; Mahone, Daniel, Holliday, 
Lee, Taliaferro and Terry. The balloting progressed until 
Terry, Taliaferro, and Lee had been dropped, leaving Ma- 
hone, Daniel, and Holliday holding the same relative posi- 
tions as when the voting commenced. General John Echols 
had been selected as floor manager of Holliday's forces, and 



STATE POUTICS FROM 1 877 TO 1 882 200, 

I had been named as his assistant or lieutenant, and as soon 
as the result of the third ballot was announced the Gen- 
eral asked permission for the followers of Holliday to retire 
for a conference. Permission was granted, and we retired 
to Sanger Hall. There Holliday's strength was largely 
augmented by many of the followers of Lee, Taliaferro, and 
Terry. Each had despaired of nominating his candidate, 
and they had come to join hands with us for Holliday. 

It had been known from the time the delegates began to 
gather that there was a bitter feud between the Mahoneites 
and Danielites, and that they would never clasp hands across 
the wide abyss that separated them. The meeting of the 
Hollidayites was organized and General Echols addressed it. 
He said substantially that it was apparent to all that the 
battle-cry of Mahone was "slaughter Daniel," and the bat- 
tle-cry of Daniel was "slaughter Mahone," and that as soon 
as either was convinced that he could not be nominated he 
would carry his strength to Holliday as far as possible as the 
next strongest candidate, which would of course insure Hol- 
liday's success. He then said: "Under the rules of the 
convention each of the dropped candidates can be put in 
nomination a second time. Will their friends do this, and 
give Mahone and Daniel time to convince themselves that 
they cannot win the prize?" Instantly the response came 
from the friends of all, "Yes, we will do it." 

Our meeting adjourned and we returned to the conven- 
tion hall. Lee, Taliaferro, and Terry were again put in 
nomination, and one after another dropped the second time, 
shutting them out of the contest, and leaving only Mahone, 
Daniel, and Holliday still in the field. 

General Echols's words had been prophetic. While the 
clerks were getting ready to take the next ballot the word 
came to the General and myself from Mahone's headquar- 
ters that he would be withdrawn and his strength trans- 
ferred to Holliday, but we were admonished to keep quiet, 
"say nothing." We heeded the admonition and remained 
as silent as dumb men, and waited with almost breathless 
anxiety the coming event. 
14 



210 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

Directly Captain John S. Wise, a staunch supporter of 
General Mahone, stepped to the front of the platform, and 
with that dash and vivacity which with his flow of language 
and grace of manner has always made him a most attractive 
speaker, after paying a beautiful tribute to General Mahone, 
withdrew him, concluding his brief speech as near as I can 
remember in these words : 

At Appomattox the division of Mahone stacked more muskets than 
any other division of Lee's army, and General Mahone has now the 
proud distinction of having more followers on this floor than any other 
candidate who has aspired to the honor of the nomination for Governor 
of this glorious old State. 

I am commissioned by the hero of the Crater to appeal to every 
friend of his within these convention walls to remember his watch- 
word, "Follow Accomac," and cast his vote for the one-armed hero of 
the Shenandoah Valley, Colonel F. W. M. Holliday. 

For many minutes pandemonium reigned; cheers and 
shouts from Mahoneites and Hollidayites shook the build- 
ing. The scene could hardly be described. Mahone had 
discovered that he had little gathering strength, and if Hol- 
liday was dropped Daniel would be nominated, and he deter- 
mined that if he had to bite the dust he would carry Daniel 
down with him. 

The Danielites were taken by surprise; their hopes had 
been high ; they had reckoned that with Holliday out of 
the contest they would receive much the larger percentage 
of his following, and with them they would land their fa- 
vorite as the winner in handsome style, and the withdrawal 
of Mahone was as startling and demoralizing to them as 
would have been the bursting of a bomb in their camp. 
However, they quickly recovered from the shock and at- 
tempted to arrest the tidal wave, but their efforts were all in 
vain. The calling of the roll commenced. Accomac, the 
first county on the roll, was called ; the chairman of her dele- 
gation, Senator Abel T. Johnson, the tallest man in the con- 
vention, responded in a deep, sonorous voice: "Accomac 
casts her thirty-two votes for the one-armed hero of the 
Shenandoah Valley, Colonel F. W. M. Holliday"; and then 
one after another of the Mahone delegations, through the 



state; politics from 1877 to 1882 211 

list, remembered its watch-word, "Follow Accomac," and 
cast its votes as Accomac had voted, resulting in the nom- 
ination of Holliday by a decisive majority. 

Mahone had himself failed to win the high prize, but he 
had done the thing next to his heart — he had defeated Dan- 
iel. Holliday was elected Governor, and during his term 
the State debt continued to be a bone of contention, and the 
legislative halls rang with the voices of the contending fac- 
tions. 

Mahone' s great political ambition had been to wear guber- 
natorial honors; he had been a most zealous and effective 
worker in the Democratic party; he had been potential in 
the councils of his party ; his war record was bright, and 
his defeat in the Convention of 1877 had made him sore 
toward his party and vindictive toward its most prominent 
leaders, and he began to organize what he termed the "Re- 
adjuster Party" — a party to readjust the State debt upon 
certain lines which he indicated. He was a superior organ- 
izer and leader of men ; he had great personal magnetism 
and will-power. He was of very small stature, but he was 
a bundle of nerves and a prodigy in energy. 

He publicly invited all classes, regardless of their past 
party affiliations, — whether Democratic or Republican, 
white or colored, — to join him, promising free schools for 
the blacks and a full enforcement of all civil-rights laws. He 
looked around for young men who had ability and political 
ambition, and impressed many of them with his views on 
the debt question, and imbued them with his spirit of revolt 
and with his idea that the time was ripe for the dethrone- 
ment of Bourbon rule, as he termed it, and the relegation to 
the rear of "old fossils," as he styled the leaders of the 
Democratic party, and the birth of a new and progressive 
party, with young men at the helm. He made rapid pro- 
gress — so rapid that a "Readjuster" legislature, after a des- 
perate fight, was elected in 1879, and this legislature filled 
the county judgeships, and the positions of State auditors 
and treasurer with men of their own political faith, and 
elected Mahone to a seat in the Senate of the United States ; 



212 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

in this movement I lost the judgeship which I had held for 
six years, because "I could not speak the language of the 
tribe." 

In the Presidential election of 1880 the Readjusters nom- 
inated an electoral ticket which they denominated a Han- 
cock ticket; besides there were straight Democratic and 
Republican tickets. The nomination of the Readjuster elec- 
toral ticket "was pursuant to an understanding and at the 
time thought advisable by Mahone, who, if his electors won, 
could go for Hancock or not, as circumstances might sug- 
gest; while if he failed the Republicans might profit by the 
separation." 

This was charged by the Democrats to be the purpose of 
Mahone in putting his ticket in the field, and I make the 
statement now upon the authority of Hon. Thomas V. 
Cooper, chairman of the Republican State Committee of 
Pennsylvania, in his admirable book entitled "American 
Politics," 1882, an entirely non-partisan work. 

The Readjusters elected two members of Congress, but 
their electoral ticket failed of election, and the regular 
Democratic ticket was elected by a safe plurality. In this 
Presidential campaign I was a State canvasser, and was 
confronted on the hustings by both Readjuster and Republi- 
can speakers, and the joint discussions were always spirited 
and peppery. 

In 1 88 1 another election for Governor took place. The 
Democratic State Convention to nominate a State ticket met 
as usual in Richmond. It was a tame affair as compared 
with the Convention of 1877. It can hardly be said that 
there were any seekers for the nomination for the first place. 
The result of the election was exceedingly doubtful in the 
opinion of the most optimistic Democrat. 

The delegates were at sea as to a candidate ; many promi- 
nent men were willing to run, from a sense of party duty if 
nominated, but not one of them was hankering after or long- 
ing for the honor at that particular time; each was willing to 
take the chances of martyrdom if the lot fell to him, but he 
was not putting himself where lightning could easily strike 



STATE POUTICS FROM 1877 TO 1882 21 3 

him, or doing anything to call attention to himself as an 
available candidate. For many hours the convention had 
been in session and ten o'clock at night was near ; various 
names had been suggested and placed before the body, but 
they were received listlessly, and no gentleman whose name 
had been presented had received more than a respectable 
vote, when suddenly Ned Dandridge, of Winchester, sprang 
upon the platform, and in a speech never excelled on such an 
occasion, he inspired the convention with hope of success in 
the coming election, pictured the record of the Democratic 
party, and recounted its achievements in soul-stirring words. 
He then said that he had the name of a gentleman to present 
to the convention. 

He proceeded to describe the man, and pay him a tribute, 
and before he could name his man, so well had been his 
description of him that the hall rang with cheers for John 
W. Daniel. In a few minutes all other names were with- 
drawn and Daniel was nominated by acclamation. The 
party had finally selected its candidate. Dandridge's speech 
had lifted the delegates out of the slough of despondency, 
inspired them with hope, and named a man in whom they 
were willing to confide the fate of their party. I have never 
heard or read of a speech, not excepting "Crown of Thorns," 
that had a more magic effect upon a body of men than the 
speech of Dandridge; and it was superior to "Crown of 
Thorns," for it was impromptu, while Crown of Thorns was 
a production of long study. 

Against Daniel, Republicans and former Democrats, who 
had become Readjusters, or Mahoneites, as they were styled, 
pitted the talented and gifted William E. Cameron, of Pe- 
tersburg, and by arrangement the candidates met on various 
occasions in joint debate on the hustings before immense 
gatherings. Daniel was eloquent and thrilling, persuasive 
in style and captivating in manner, and being lame from a 
desperate wound, he made telling appeals to Confederate 
soldiers not to ally themselves with Republicans in an effort 
to defeat him. 



214 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE) SERVICE 

Cameron had not had the training and experience of his 
opponent as a public speaker; he had been the editor of a 
city newspaper and had made great reputation in that line; 
but he soon proved that he was as strong with his tongue as 
he had been with his pen ; he was eloquent, not as eloquent 
however as his competitor, but he was Daniel's match in 
debate, and more incisive. His soldier-record was as good 
as the best, and in this respect the two candidates were equal. 
The canvass was long, covering the entire State, and was 
warm and exciting from first to last. There were scores 
of speakers on the stump; joint discussions were the rule, 
and they attracted large crowds, and frequently after the 
war of words extremists would undertake to settle the issue 
by fist and skull combats. For three months I was almost 
daily engaged in joint debate — sometimes winning victories, 
other times feeling that I could do no more than claim a 
drawn battle, giving myself the benefit of any doubt. 

The election resulted in Daniel's defeat. Cameron's ma- 
jority out of a vote of 211,230 was 11,716. 

As I have stated, the Readjusters elected two members of 
Congress in 1880 — Paul and Fulkerson. The former was 
from my Congressional district — the Shenandoah Valley 
district, and with a colored Republican candidate who drew 
from Paul seven or eight hundred votes in the field, he de- 
feated Judge Henry C. Allen, the Democratic candidate, 
who was an able and popular man, by a majoriy of 1,800 
votes. 

When the time for the Congressional election of 1882 was 
approaching it was announced that Paul would be renomi- 
nated by acclamation, and the Democrats began to look 
around for a candidate to oppose him. They remembered 
their defeat two years before; they recognized in Paul a 
very formidable man, possessing all the elements of personal 
popularity, strong and magnetic as a speaker, with a splendid 
record as a soldier, and untiring energy. This district was 
full of Democrats who had congressional aspirations and I 
Avas among them, but there were no earnest seekers for the 
nomination. All regarded the defeat of the Readjuster can- 



STATE POLITICS FROM 1 877 TO 1 882 215 

didate as the raw Irishman regarded his fight with a trained 
shoulder-hitter, "a tough proposition." 

The delegations were sent to the convention, which was 
held in Staunton, without instructions. They met on a 
Wednesday in August, and after deliberating some time I 
was nominated. The canvass opened the next Monday with 
a joint discussion between my able competitor and myself at 
Staunton. He and I were personal friends and lived in the 
same town ; we had practised at the bar together for years, 
and had spoken together on many a Democratic platform 
before the birth of Readjusterism; while I was a judge, he 
was the prosecuting attorney. We knew each other "from 
end to end," as the saying goes. I regarded him as a 
stumper worthy of the steel of the best in the Common- 
wealth. I knew that before me was a desperate fight, and 
that if I hoped to win I must tax my energies of mind and 
body to the utmost, and make no mistake. There were ten 
counties and numerous towns in the district, and it extended 
from the spurs of the Alleghanies to almost the gates of 
Richmond; it covered a territory two hundred miles long 
and one hundred miles wide. The canvass started warm, 
and it became warmer and warmer as it progressed, and at 
its close the feeling in both parties was at white heat. 

My competitor and I smote each other hip and thigh and 
struck hard and fast, and each was on his mettle, but noth- 
ing was said or done by either of which the other could 
justly complain. Besides the hearty support we had from 
our respective parties, the host of enthusiastic personal fol- 
lowers each of us had, gave increased intensity to the feel- 
ing. Taking it all and all, it is regarded as the hardest and 
most exciting contest that has ever occurred in the State. 
My hope of election was slight at first, but after a little it 
began to grow, and when I returned home the evening be- 
fore the election I was confident that with the setting of the 
next day's sun victory would perch upon my banner. But 

oft 

"Hope tells a flattering tale, 
Delusive, vain and hollow." 

and so it was in my case. 



2l6 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

The returns showed 12,146 votes for my competitor and 
11,941 votes for me — a majority of 205 votes against me. 
Before the result was known my friends all over the district 
were wiring me charges of fraud by the election and other 
officials, who were Readjusters. 

At that time the payment of the capitation tax by a voter 
before the day of election was a prerequisite to voting. 
There were many delinquent voters, mostly among the col- 
ored, who were all against me, and hundreds of these peo- 
ple were given receipts for their taxes on the day of election, 
dated prior thereto, by unscrupulous tax collectors, without 
the payment of any money ; these voters would exhibit their 
receipts at the polls, cast their ballots against me, and then 
return the receipts to the collectors. 

I notified my competitor that I would contest his seat upon 
the ground of fraud, 'and went to work to secure the neces- 
sary proof. In due time the notice of contest was served and 
depositions taken. The contest was heard by the House of 
Representatives and the seat was awarded to me. I desire 
to say here with emphasis that I am sure that my competi- 
tor was not privy, directly or indirectly, to the frauds. It 
was a scheme hatched and put into operation without his 
knowledge. 

During the canvass of which I have just been writing 
amusing incidents frequently occurred. At one appointment 
I was speaking with much earnestness and the day was hot, 
when a fellow pretty full of "mountain dew," standing near, 
looking up in my face, with his mouth spread from ear to 
ear, blurted out: "That's right, Colonel, put 'em in fast. 
You are hot and still a heating, I am drunk and still a drink- 
ing." 

At another place Captain Paul was referring to the fact 
that he was raised in the country and had worked on his 
father's farm. "In fact," said he, "I was about raised be- 
tween two corn rows." Some fellow in the crowd hollered, 
"By golly, that's where pumpkins are usually raised !" 

It sounded like a reflection upon Captain Paul, but I have 
no idea that it was so intended, for Paul was one of the last 



STATE POLITICS FROM 1 877 TO 1882 217 

men I have ever known to whom such a remark would ap- 
ply. There was nothing soft in him ; he was as solid and 
firm as granite. 

At still another appointment, where I was engaged in a 
discussion with a gentleman who had taken my competitor's 
place for the day, giving me an easier task than had been 
my lot, this gentleman was parading himself as a peculiar 
friend of the public schools. He expressed a desire to be 
buried when he died where the poor little bare-footed moun- 
tain school-girl could pass his grave on her way to school and 
drop upon his breast a mountain daisy as a token of her 
gratitude. 

A wag in the audience rose and said : "Mister, Fse from 
the mountain, and we hain't got no such flower as you say 
you want drapped on your breast. We have a flower we 
call a bull-eye. Won't that do? You must talk plain talk 
to us mountain-folks, and leave off your frills. We don't 
think you has ever been among us mountain- folks, or you'd 
know better how to 'dress us. That's all. Now go ahead." 

This speaker had already disappointed the Readjusters 
and he seemed to feel it, and this mountaineer's interruption 
had so frustrated him that he floundered about for a few 
minutes, and then complaining of not being well, sat down 
before his time expired. I had the right to close the discus- 
sion, but waived it upon the ground that I had never treated 
a wounded foe unkindly during the war, and I would not 
now strike a sick and disabled foe. Just then the moun- 
taineer arose again and said : "Mister, I'se sorry I made 
you sick. You must fergive me; I didn't mean to do it. 
How is you troubled. Maybe I'se got somethin' that'll help 
you. Will you try a bit." While the mountaineer was 
talking I left the stand, and when he concluded the crowd 
gradually scattered and the meeting was over. 

In justice to the "sick" speaker I should say that I discov- 
ered before the discussion commenced that he was very ner- 
vous, and while I did not expect to see him break down, I 
felt that "he was my meat," using an old stump phrase. He 



2l8 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

was not, for some reason, at his best, for I had heard him 
make several very creditable efforts. 

At this time Virginia was entitled to nine district repre- 
sentatives and one representative at large. The Democrats 
were successful in six districts, and the Readjustee in three, 
and besides they secured the representative from the State at 
large. Two of the Readjuster representatives were pro- 
nounced Republicans in National politics. 

The representative at large was John S. Wise, who had 
made the speech to which I have referred, withdrawing Gen- 
eral Mahone as a candidate for the Democratic nomination 
for Governor in the memorable Convention of 1877. He 
had followed, with unflagging zeal and devotion, General 
Mahone into the Readjuster party, and was among the Gen- 
eral's most cherished and valued lieutenants. His father, 
Henry A. Wise, by his burning eloquence and biting satire, 
had destroyed Know Nothingism in his famous campaign 
for Governor in 1855. 

As a small boy I heard him make a speech in that canvass 
at my home, where a majority of his audience were Know 
Nothings, and never in my life have I heard from any man 
such invective as rolled in an unceasing flood from his 
tongue, and never have I heard from any speaker such soar- 
ing eloquence. Many years have passed, and the men of 
mature years who heard him have all crossed over the river, 
and perhaps most of the lads of my age who listened with 
boyish ears to that great champion of Democracy and de- 
nouncer of "midnight conclaves, secret plots, grips, signs 
and passwords, in a free and enlightened land," have gone 
the way of all flesh, yet the speaker, speech, and scene are 
as vivid in my memory as though but a fortnight had rolled 
its short course since. He was elected and toward the close 
of his term occurred the John Brown raid at Harpers Fer- 
ry. He was a most impulsive man, earnest and unyielding 
in his convictions. He was opposed to the secession move- 
ment, and thought the South should fight for her rights 
in the Union and under the flag of the Union ; that Virginia 
and other original Southern States had done as much, if not 



STATE POLITICS FROM 1 877 TO 1 882 2IO. 

more, than the original Northern States, in blood and 
money, to secure and establish the Federal Union, and they 
should not yield their part and parcel in it to States that 
were violating, as he contended, the compact and trampling 
upon guaranteed rights. There were many prominent Vir- 
ginians who agreed with him, but when the State passed her 
ordinance of secession he promptly tendered his services to 
Virginia and was appointed a brigadier-general in the Con- 
federate Army, and was in command at Roanoke Island, 
North Carolina, when the island was attacked and captured, 
and his brilliant son, Captain O. Jennings Wise, killed. 

John S. Wise inherited in a marked degree the talent and 
characteristics of his father, and in his canvass for Vir- 
ginia's representative at large in Congress, in 1882, he 
aroused the Readjustee to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, 
and they drank in his eloquence and with remarkable avid- 
ity hung upon his words as they flowed with lightning 
speed. He was a dangerous man to meet in debate on the 
hustings, and to cope with him was no easy task. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE RISE AND EAEL OF MAHONE. 

About "Affairs of Honor" — John S. Wise's Courageous Declaration on 
the Subject — The State Wrested from the Readjusters — Mahone 
Throws off his Cloak — A Majority of One and who Cast the 
Deciding Vote — Fitz Lee Nominated — An Account of a Joint Debate 
— Mahone's Fall. 

Prior to this canvass of 1882, and while Readjusterism 
was cutting a heavy swath, there were numerous "affairs of 
honor," and several duels had been fought and others barely 
averted. There had been from time immemorial, in Vir- 
ginia, a disposition upon the part of a gentleman who felt 
aggrieved by some act or word of another to demand satis- 
faction at ten paces with pistols. "Pistols and coffee for 
two" was the saying in the days of dueling. In the life of 
Virginia there had been many "meetings on the field of 
honor," as they were styled, and scores had been bloody and 
some fatal. 

The duel between Clay and Randolph, fought on the 
banks of the Potomac just opposite Washington, was blood- 
less, though Clay fired twice and Randolph once, ending in 
the renewal of friendly relations ; and the Ritchie and Pleas- 
ants duel, in which the brilliant Pleasants was killed; and 
the Droomgoole and Dugger meeting, in which the former, 
one of Virginia's shining lights, met his death, are written 
indelibly in the annals of the State because of the promi- 
nence of the participants. Another fatal meeting was be- 
tween McCarthy and Mordecai, both young men, which 
took place within the present corporate limits of Richmond. 
McCarthy was shot nigh unto death and Mordecai was 
killed. 

I could mention other "affairs" during the days when 
public sentiment favored the settlement of affronts by a re- 
sort to combat with deadly weapons, under the rules of the 
code duello, but it would be raking over ashes of the past 



THE RISE AND FALL OF MAHONE 221 

which it would be better to leave undisturbed. The senti- 
ment which sustained this mode of vindicating wounded 
honor has about passed away, except perhaps in extreme 
cases, and it was given its quietus, in great measure at least, 
in 1882 by John S. Wise during his canvass for Congress- 
man at large. He had been raised in a school which taught 
that dueling was right and proper under the circumstances I 
have stated, and had been connected with several "affairs." 
In his canvass he was challenged by John S. Crockett, of 
Wytheville, whose very name was a synonym of courage. 
Wise accepted the challenge at once, the "cartel" was drawn 
up, and the principals, with their seconds and surgeons, met 
on a bright morning in July ; fortunately they both escaped 
injury, and expressing satisfaction they left the field. Soon 
after this meeting, when all around was quiet and serene, 
John S. Wise publicly announced that he would never en- 
gage in another duel. 

He had always been regarded as personally courageous, 
and I believe justly so, but in his public announcement he 
displayed a moral courage which few men in his position and 
with his antecedents would have shown. It was most com- 
mendable in him, and it was the beginning of an outspoken 
sentiment against dueling in Virginia, which has grown 
more and more emphatic with each of the twenty-two years 
that have elapsed since from his lips or pen came the an- 
nouncement that he had fought his last duel. 

The loss of the State to Wise in 1882 stimulated the Dem- 
ocrats to make a strenuous effort in the legislative election 
of 1883. The convention convened in Lynchburg, and after 
some deliberation as to the selection of a chairman of the 
State Committee, elected John S. Barbour by acclamation, 
and prevailed upon him to accept the trust. In his selection 
the convention made no mistake. He had long been promi- 
nent in the councils of the party, and was regarded as a man 
of ripe judgment and untiring energy. He measured up 
fully to the requirements of the position. He organized the 
party in every county and city most systematically and thor- 
oughly. He mustered into service every Democrat who had 



222 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE) SERVICE 

fair capacity as a stump speaker and waged the most deter- 
mined fight that had ever been made in the old Common- 
wealth. Mahone was at the head of the Readjuster organi- 
zation, and it was "diamond cut diamond." Both were on 
their mettle; both were fighting with their visors down. 
Election day came and Barbour won — the State went Demo- 
cratic and both branches of the legislature were wrested 
from the Readjusters ; but the Executive of the State, Gov- 
ernor Cameron, elected by the Readjusters, was still in office. 

When the Presidential election of 1884 rolled round, Ma- 
hone threw off what the Democrats believed all along to be 
a cloak to conceal his real political convictions and purposes. 
He proclaimed himself a Republican and supported Blaine 
for President. But many of his Readjuster followers here 
called a halt ; they would not follow him into the Republican 
party, and they renewed their allegiance to the Democratic 
party and became most zealous in their support of Cleve- 
land. The Democrats, still led by Barbour, with Mahone 
again "in the saddle," went into the campaign inspired by 
their victory of the previous year, and enthused by the splen- 
did qualities and winning record of their Presidential candi- 
date. They made an aggressive fight and achieved another 
signal victory. 

I had been renominated for my second term in Congress 
without opposition in the convention, and re-elected over 
my Republican competitor, Dr. J. B. Webb, by more than 
3,000 majority. My county, which had gone against me in 
my contest with my Readjuster opponent two years before, 
had been brought into the Democratic column. The major- 
itv was as small as possible, only one — nothing to brag 
about, except in comparison with the former Readjuster 
majorities. It was amusing to hear Democrat after Demo- 
crat claiming the credit of the unit victory. 

Finally on the court-day succeeding the election I settled 
the dispute by relating an incident that occurred the night 
before the election. A young Republican who was to cast 
his first vote the next day was visiting a young Democratic 
girl, who had promised to become his bride, and he had 



THE RISE AND FAU, 0E MAH0NE 223 

called to fix the nuptial day. He gently and lovingly ap- 
proached the subject, but she gave him an evasive answer. 
He pressed for a direct reply to his suggestion, still she was 
coy. Finally this colloquy took place : 

She. "John, to-morrow is election day." He. "Yes, 
Sally, it is, and I shall cast my first vote." She. "And that 
must be a Democratic vote." He. "Oh no, it will be a Re- 
publican vote. I'm a Republican." She. "Then you think 
more of that Republican vote than you do of me?" He. 
"No I don't, either." She. "Yes you do." He. "No I 
don't." She. "Yes you do, or you would give it up to get 
me." He. "Why, Sally, you don't mean to say that I can't 
get you if I vote that ticket?" She. "Yes, you have the 
thing exactly right. I was reading since I saw you last that 
the Republican party in Virginia was about seven-eighths 
black, and if you go along with such a crowd you can't get 
me." He protested; he insisted that political equality did 
not mean social equality, but he failed to convince her. She 
excused herself for a few minutes, and then returned with 
an election ticket in her left hand, and upon it were the 
names of "Cleveland, Hendricks, and O'Ferrall." She said : 
"John, here is my hand" — stretching forth her right hand — 
"and here is a Democratic ticket" — extending her left hand. 
"If I give you my hand you must take this ticket and give 
me your word of honor you will vote it." 

He looked intently at her for a moment and said, "Sally, 
are you in dead earnest or are you joking?" She replied, 
"John, this is no joking matter ; I'm in dead earnest." In- 
stantly he wilted, and said, "All right, Sally, give me your 
hand and give me that ticket. I promise you to vote it to- 
morrow if it kills me." The next day he cast a Democratic 
ballot, and the county went Democratic by a majority of 
one. All the claimants of the credit of Rockingham's one 
Democratic majority withdrew from the contest and gave 
three cheers for the bonny lassie. 

Two Democratic victories had now been achieved in suc- 
cession, one over the Readjusters, and the other over the Re- 
publicans, strengthened by the Readjusters, who had come 



224 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

out boldly and declared they were Republicans — most of 
them upon the ground, as they stated, that they were pro- 
tectionists, and opposed to the Democratic doctrine on the 
tariff. But General Mahone was not done fighting ; he was 
as fierce in his opposition to "Bourbonism," as he styled 
Democracy, as ever, and losing no time he commenced to or- 
ganize for the gubernatorial election of 1885. His two de- 
feats had not daunted him in the least ; he was as full of fire 
as if he had met no reverses. 

The Democrats being forewarned that to maintain their 
advantage they must be vigilant and active, under the di- 
rection of Barbour, their chief, kept their organization in 
perfect form, and strengthened as far as they could all weak 
places in their lines. The twelve months rolled round rapid- 
ly and the two State conventions were held. The Republi- 
cans nominated John S. Wise; the Democrats, Fitzhugh 
Lee. 

Fitz Lee knew little about organizing a political party, 
and he had at that time only meagre training as a stump- 
speaker, but he developed rapidly and made an excellent and 
captivating canvass. Cavalcades of old soldiers greeted him 
at the depots, and mounting a fine horse, awaiting him, he 
would ride at the head of "the boys," with the same grace 
as of the days of carnage, to the gathering places of "the 
sovereigns," where he was always received with cheers and 
wild enthusiasm. The candidates had no joint discussions, 
it being the policy of the Democratic party to have its own 
meetings, except occasionally in the white counties of the 
State, the purpose being to show that the colored voters of 
the State were welded together in a solid mass with a small 
percentage of the white voters, against the great body of the 
white voters. 

Occasionally, as I have said, in a county where the colored 
population was infinitesimal there would be a joint discus- 
sion, and it so happened that I was appointed by the State 
Committee to meet Honorable John S. Wise, the Republican 
gubernatorial candidate, in one of these counties. 

This meeting was in Grayson County, in the southwestern 



THE RISE AND FALL OF MAHONE 225 

section of the State, almost entirely a white county. The 
gathering was very large, and about equally divided politi- 
cally. The discussion lasted for more than four hours, with 
the excitement at boiling heat; but the crowd was on its 
good behavior, for each side realized that an imprudent dem- 
onstration would probably result in serious trouble. The 
distinguished candidate and noted speaker was in fine trim, 
though he had been speaking daily for weeks. I was in ex- 
cellent health and vigor, though I had been doing hard work 
for many days. It was a discussion of the principles of Re- 
publicanism and Democracy, untinged with Readjusterism. 

In my early political days I was advised by an "old sta- 
ger" never to allow my opponent to put me on the defensive, 
and I always endeavored to follow his advice, so I was ag- 
gressive; but my opponent was equally as vigorous in at- 
tack. I had a splendid candidate, with a magic name and 
record. The opposing candidate, representing himself, had 
a magnetic name in Virginia, and he had been wounded with 
the boy cadets of the Virginia Military Institute in the Bat- 
tle of New Market, where the corps immortalized itself, 
about fifty of them being killed and wounded. 

In our discussion it was stroke and parry, thrust and 
guard, figuratively speaking, for four hours, and at the close 
each of us received an ovation from our respective friends — 
each side claiming a victory for its champion. We retired 
to the village hotel, changed our clothing, for we were as wet 
as wharf rats, and then sat down together to a warm dinner 
and chatted pleasantly, to the amazement of those who saw 
us, for they could not understand, as they said, "How men 
could slather each other as we had done, and still be friend- 
ly." Little did they know the ways of politics and politi- 
cians. 

I regard that discussion as the hardest fight of my political 
life. 

Lee was elected over Wise by a majority of 16,034 votes, 

in a total vote of 289,054. Grayson County, which had 

given a majority in 1884 against Democracy, gave a small 

Democratic majority, which was gratifying to me, for I was 

15 



226 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

vain enough to attribute it somewhat to the effect of the dis- 
cussion I had with the brilliant and dashing Republican 
gubernatorial candidate. 

This was Barbour's third victory over Mahone. In 1887 
a Democratic legislature was secured without difficulty, and 
in 1888 Cleveland carried the State and I was re-elected to 
Congress for my fourth term ; though under the leadership 
of Mahone there was vigorous opposition to both electoral 
and congressional tickets. The year 1889 brought another 
contest for Governor. There were numerous candidates for 
the Democratic nomination. Philip W. McKinney, an elo- 
quent and distinguished lawyer and lovable man; Richard 
A. Beirne, editor of the Richmond State, a brilliant writer 
and a splendid fellow, young and full of life and vivacity, 
brave and fearless, with a host of friends, particularly 
among the young men ; John T. Harris, a former member 
of Congress for ten years, an astute politician, and posses- 
sing much personal magnetism ; Samuel W. Venable, a 
prominent and most worthy citizen, and most successful bus- 
iness man, and myself. In the convention McKinney was 
nominated on the second ballot, with Beirne second, while 
I came third, close on his heels. 

It had been understood for some time that Mahone in- 
tended to make a herculean effort to reach the Executive 
chair, which seemed to be the pinnacle of his ambition, and 
that he would be the Republican candidate for Governor; 
and such he became by acclamation in the convention. 

He was not a speaker, and made no attempt to canvass the 
State, trusting that to his lieutenants and subalterns ; but he 
was engaged in giving directions and in using his consum- 
mate skill as an organizer. He wielded a trenchant pen, and 
much of the literature of his party, which was scattered 
broadcast, was prepared by him. But while he did not real- 
ize it, he was in his death struggle, he was making his last 
fight, his star was setting, the doom of an inglorious defeat 
was before him. McKinney was elected by a majority of 
42,953 in a total vote of 285,471 votes. 

This was the political end of General Mahone, and there 



THE RISE AND FALL OF MAIIONE 227 

was something really pathetic in his downfall. He was a 
Virginian to the manor born ; he had come up from the peo- 
ple with neither wealth nor influential friends in early life to 
aid him, yet he had worked his way from a civil engineer to 
the presidency of an important trunk-line railway system, 
over four hundred miles in length; he had raised and com- 
manded the Sixth Virginia Regiment of Infantry in the 
War between the States, and had become a major-general in 
1864. He had been a Democrat, earnest and influential in 
Democratic councils, and a tower of strength to his party in 
several important crises. When he aspired to the Demo- 
cratic nomination for Governor he had a powerful follow- 
ing, greater than any of the other five aspirants. But for 
some reason or in some way he had incurred the enmity of 
a number of influential men in the party, and they encom- 
passed his defeat in the convention, or rather forced his re- 
tirement from the field to avoid it. Then he organized the 
Readjuster party and became its leader, with dictatorial 
powers, and was sent to the United States Senate for a term 
of six years ; then he proclaimed himself a Republican and 
was made the leader of that party in Virginia, with absolute 
sway : then, after suffering various defeats, he finally met 
his Waterloo in 1889, and the sceptre of leadership dropped 
from his hand forever, and he fell like Lucifer, 

"Never to hope again." 

War is cruel and so is politics often. During General 
Mahone's candidacy an effort was made to reflect upon his 
soldier-record. Through all the years after Appomattox 
until he changed his political colors his record had been re- 
garded clear and spotless, but in the fierceness of the politi- 
cal conflicts that followed his political change there were 
whisperings among extreme Democratic partisans that there 
were blots upon his soldier-record, and when he became a 
candidate for Governor the whisperings grew into a loud 
acclaim. But I am glad to say that the charge had little ef- 
fect, and the members of his old division, without regard to 
their party faith, resented it with spirit. I regarded it as 
cruel. 



CHAPTER V 

FROM CONGRESS TO THE GUBERNATORIAL, CHAIR 

Re-elected to My Fifth Term in Congress— I Announce My Candidacy 
for the Nomination for Governor— Shall the Office Seek the Man 
or the Man the Office— My Pride in Virginia — My Rivals for the 
Nomination — Free Silver in the Convention — My Canvass — Inau- 
gurated as Governor— The Zenith of My Political Ambition— My 
First Regular Message— The Coal Strike of 1895— Coxey's Army— 
The Question of Pardons — Some Unique Cases — Oyster Disturb- 
ances — "Wise's Oyster Fundum Views." 

From 1889 forward the Democrats had easy sailing in 
smooth water until the Presidential election of 1896, to 
which I shall refer later. 

In 1890 I was re-elected to my fifth term in Congress 
by a large majority, and in 1892 Cleveland carried the State 
with mere formal opposition, and I received my sixth and 
last commission to a seat in the House of Representatives. 

In the spring of 1893 I announced my candidacy for the 
Democratic nomination for Governor, and set about per- 
fecting my organization. In 1889 I had been inert and 
made no special effort; this time I determined to strike 
hard for the high prize. I had become convinced that the 
so-called Washington idea of "letting the office seek the 
man, not the man the office" — if the Father of his Country 
had ever acted upon this principle, and that was the rule in 
his day and generation, it would not do in these hustling 
political times. Neither could I see why I should quietly 
fold my arms and lie supinely upon my back and pray for 
the coming of the office in search of me; my ambition was 
laudable, and I could discover no reason why I should con- 
ceal it from my friends. 

And, by the way, let me say at the risk of censure at the 
hands of those who have been impressed with the oft-re- 
peated reputed declaration of our illustrious first President, 
whose memory I venerate as much as they do, that from my 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 229 

reading of moth-eaten and time-worn chronicles of the 
latter part of the eighteenth century, I am convinced that 
the sage of Mount Vernon was a consummate politician and 
that his ways were not different from the ways of the high- 
minded and honorable politicians of the present day, who 
do not think they lower their dignity or detract from their 
manhood when they seek honors by honorable means. My 
reading convinced me that George Washington was just as 
honest and frank with his people as he was with his father 
at the time of that historic episode of the hatchet and cherry 
tree, and if he wanted an office he did not wait for it to 
search for him in the forests or amid the sequestered places 
of Mount Vernon. 

And while I am on the subject of the reputed Washing- 
ton idea of "the office seeking the man, not the man the 
office," let me say that my reading of the old chronicles has 
also convinced me that the illustrious man, "who was first 
in war, first in peace and first in the hearts of his country- 
men," never advanced the doctrine that no man should 
serve more than two terms as President of the United 
States, as many believe. It is true that he declined a third 
term, but it was simply because he desired to retire to pri- 
vate life and be relieved of the cares of the nation, which 
at his age had become onerous and burdensome. 

There is not a word or intimation from him, as far as I 
have ever been able to find, to indicate that he even thought it 
unwise to elect a man as President for a third term, and I 
believe I can safely challenge the production of any proof 
to that effect. The idea that a third term would be in the 
direction of imperialism, or of a kingly or royal government, 
was never advanced by the illustrious patriot and statesman 
whose sacred dust reposes on the banks of the Potomac, and 
whose memory is revered by the whole nation. 

Begging pardon for this diversion, I return to my candi- 
dacy for the gubernatorial nomination. Such was my pride 
in the history, glories, traditions, and memories of my 
Mother State that I felt I would rather fill, worthily, her 



23O FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

Executive chair — far rather — than wear any Federal or 
royal honor that could be bestowed. 

Virginia, named for the illustrious virgin queen upon 
whose soil the first lasting English colony was planted, "the 
cradle of republican liberty was first rocked," and the strug- 
gle was ended which gave to us a free country, and the 
oppressed of every land a safe refuge; whose Randolph 
was president of the first Continental Congress, which ap- 
proved the opposition of the inhabitants of Massachusetts 
Bay to the tyrannical acts of the British Parliament; whose 
Henry, by his burning words and flaming eloquence, aroused 
the Colonies to strike for their liberties ; whose Jefferson 
penned the Declaration of Independence, the greatest of all 
instruments not the result of inspired wisdom ; whose Wash- 
ington led the armies of the Revolution to victory; whose 
Madison urged and secured the broadest freedom of relig- 
ious rights; whose Mason, in the Bill of Rights prepared 
by him, enunciated the rights that pertain to the people un- 
der a republican form of government ; whose Monroe estab- 
lished the "Monroe doctrine," declaring that the Powers 
of the Old World must not interfere with the affairs of the 
New, and that any attempt on the part of European powers 
"to extend their system to any portion of this hemisphere" 
would be regarded by the United States as "dangerous to 
our peace and safety, and would accordingly be opposed" ; 
whose Marshall construed and expounded the Federal Con- 
stitution, and whose Lee electrified every enlightened clime 
with his military genius, pure life and sublime character; a 
State that had furnished to the Republic its first, third, 
fourth, fifth, and tenth Presidents, and given birth to its 
ninth and eleventh; that had prior to 1861 furnished five 
Justices of the Supreme Court; twenty cabinet officers, 
thirteen ministers plenipotentiaries, and four speakers of 
the House of Representatives ; and had donated to the Gen- 
eral Government the Northwestern Territory, out of which 
many States had been carved, now teeming with millions 
of people and myriads of products — to be the Governor of 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 23 1 

such a State was to me, her son, an honor above all earthly 
honors. 

I made no concealment of my desire for the nomination, 
nor did I remain inactive. With hosts of friends in every 
section of the Commonwealth, I impressed upon them the 
importance of activity and organization, and everywhere my 
suggestion was met with a hearty response, and in every 
county, district, city, and town a most perfect organization 
was effected. 

I had two competitors for the nomination, Colonel A. S. 
Buford, of the city of Richmond, and Major J. Hoge Tyler, 
of Pulaski County — both splendid men. Colonel Buford 
was a gentleman sans penr et sans reproche, of superior 
ability, respected by all the people and beloved by his friends. 
He had been president of a railroad system, prominent in 
business circles, an earnest Democrat, and potential in party 
councils. His personal acquaintance, however, with the 
great mass of the voters of the State was quite limited, as he 
had never been brought in touch with them on the hustings, 
and they only knew him by reputation. 

Major Tyler had been a State Senator, was at the time 
Lieutenant-Governor, and had done much campaigning and 
effective work on the stump. He was a ready and attrac- 
tive speaker, full of humor, affable and pleasing in manner, 
and an excellent "mixer on the court-green." His friends 
were very fond of him, and he had few, if any. personal 
enemies. 

The contest was spirited, but conducted on a high plane, 
nothing occurring worthy of note to engender bad feeling 
or cause complaint. 

The convention met in the city of Richmond in August ; 
the money question was just coming to the front ; Colonel 
Buford and I were opposed to the radical doctrine of free 
silver, while Major Tyler was an advocate of it. A resolu- 
tion was offered by the friends of Major Tyler declaring in 
favor of the free and unlimited coinage of the white metal, 
but it was defeated by an overwhelming vote. The conven- 
tion consisted of 1604 delegates— the basis of representa- 



232 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

tion being one delegate to every one hundred Democratic 
voters or fractional part thereof over fifty in every county 
and city. 

I was nominated on the first ballot, receiving 1201 votes 
I think. I was put in nomination by Honorable William 
F. Rhea, afterwards a member of Congress, who aroused in- 
tense enthusiasm among my friends, and tended in large 
measure to secure for me the very heavy vote I received. A 
copy of this speech I have preserved and shall bequeath it 
to my children as a proud memento of my political life. 

I would be glad indeed to mention the names of many of 
my friends who were prominent in my organization, and 
whose indefatigable work brought me such a signal victory ; 
but the list would be too long, and besides I might omit 
some most worthy of mention, and be regarded as unjustly 
discriminating. I must, however, speak of J. Frank East, 
the chairman, and E. L. C. Scott and Joseph T. Lawless, 
secretaries. Their work was simply superb; it could not 
have been excelled. 

After I was nominated I entered upon my canvass, to 
which I confined myself as closely as my Congressional du- 
ties would permit. Populism had secured a foothold in 
Virginia — the Readjuster party had ceased to exist, and the 
Republican leaders had declared their purpose not to put a 
ticket in the field, so the Populist party nominated a full 
ticket, placing at its head Captain Edmund Cooke, a very 
estimable citizen of Cumberland County. A platform was 
adopted declaring for the free and unlimited coinage of sil- 
ver, and all the fallacies of Populism. All the speakers who 
could be mustered took the stump, and Jerry Simpson, Lafe 
Pence, Kerr, and others of like ilk and kind were imported 
into the State. They attempted to effect a coalition with 
the Republicans, but they succeeded only partially — many 
of the more prominent Republicans supporting me. 

The Democrats had in the Populist opposition an un- 
known strength ; they could not tell what inroads Populism 
might make, hence they were vigilant and active ; in fact, at 
one time they were alarmed, which insured activity. The 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 233 

result, however, was never doubtful in my mind, but I did 
not expect as large a majority as I received, which was 
46,701. 

The utter ignorance of some of the supporters of free sil- 
ver was amazing. Some of them conceived the idea that 
free silver meant that silver money was to be distributed free 
for a season, so as to increase the volume of the currency 
and relieve the people. Others that "16 to i" meant that 
for every gold dollar a man could produce he would receive 
from the Government sixteen silver dollars, and that every 
silver dollar would have the purchasing power of a gold 
dollar. Of course, these people were of the ignorant class. 

I resigned my seat in Congress shortly after my election, 
and was inaugurated as Governor on the first day of Jan- 
uary, 1894, for the constitutional term of four years. 

The ceremonies took place from the front portico of Vir- 
ginia's venerable Capitol, in the presence of an immense con- 
course of people ; they were opened with prayer by that dis- 
tinguished and idolized pastor of the Second Presbyterian 
Church of Richmond, Rev. Moses D. Hoge, D. D., who had 
for fifty consecutive years filled the pulpit of that church; 
whose fame as a pulpit orator and versatile speaker, not 
only filled this land, but extended across the vasty deep — 
a godly, saintly man, and he was always selected to officiate 
on important occasions ; the oath was administered by Hon- 
orable L. L. Lewis, president of the Court of Appeals of 
Virginia, and who, though a Republican in politics, had 
then, as he has now, the supreme respect of all classes for 
his legal learning, just judgment, and exalted character. 

I had now reached the zenith of my political ambition. I 
was Governor of Virginia, and would not have exchanged 
positions with him who wielded the sceptre of empire. I 
would not have laid aside the simple title "Governor of the 
Commonwealth of Virginia" to receive a kingly crown. 
My title had come to me by the free voice of the sovereign 
people of my native State;' it had not come through hered- 
ity of family or blood ; it had not descended to me as the 
eldest son of a dead or dethroned ruler nor by revolution or 



234 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

violence, but had been bestowed by the untrammeled will of 
a free people, in days of peace and tranquillity. It had been 
conferred upon me by the same process that made Henry 
and Monroe the Chief Executives of Virginia in the early 
days of her statehood. 

I trust I have not created the impression that my elevation 
had made me vain-glorious, or filled me with conceit, for 
surely it had done neither. I was gratified to know that 
my people had declared me worthy of such an honor, but the 
feeling that I might not measure up to the standard of effi- 
ciency and discharge my duties in an acceptable manner im- 
pressed me deeply, and as I stood by the side of Dr. Hoge 
on the portico of the Governor's Mansion, reviewing a col- 
umn of volunteer militia that was passing, I said : "Doc- 
tor, the desire to be Governor has long been in my bosom, 
but now that my ambition has been gratified, I feel, as I 
never felt before, how weighty are the responsibilities the 
position imposes. I am really depressed." He replied : 
"Act always as you think right ; keep your conscience clean ; 
pray God to direct you, and all will be well." 

During my four years I had many things to perplex and 
trouble me, but the words of that man of God would always 
come to my relief and encourage me. My administration 
did not run its course like a smooth, unruffled current. For 
several years, in fact from the close of the war, mob violence 
had frequently occurred, and lynchings had been numerous, 
and the spirit had grown to such an extent that during the 
four years just previous to the beginning of my term twen- 
ty-seven men had met their deaths at the hands of mobs. 

In my inaugural address I said : "I shall see that the 
laws are rigidly enforced in all respects, and that good 
order prevail throughout the limits of the Commonwealth ; 
if riot or disorder should occur, whether in the crowded city 
or rural district, and the local authorities are unequal to 
the task of quickly suppressing it, no time will be lost by 
me, as the Executive Officer, in using the power of the Com- 
monwealth to restore the supremacy of the law, let it cost 
what it may in blood or money." 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 235 

In my first regular message to the General Assembly I 
used this language: 

With pain and mortification I bring to your attention the frequent 
taking of human life without the process of law within the borders 
of our State. Every such act blunts the sensibilities of the partici- 
pants and tends to dry up the well-springs of morality and break down 
the safeguards of society. 

In Virginia lynching cannot be defended; it must be reprobated. 
This Commonwealth has ever boasted of the purity of her judiciary, and 
the uprightness of her injuries, yet the number who have suffered 
death by the halter without trials or sentences of her tribunals of 
justice has created abroad the impression that her judges and juries 
cannot be trusted, or that her people are swayed by passion and un- 
controlled by reason; that the law is dethroned and lawlessness reigns. 

I know there is a crime too horrible to mention, so black as to cry 
for vengeance ; but even the commission of that crime cannot war- 
rant a resort to mob violence, for justice with us is certain and will 

never miscarry if the law is allowed to take its course. 

********** 

Our list of executions without the pale of the law is long, including 
both races ; and while some States have lists of greater length, this 
cannot excuse us. We cannot be justified in the sight of God or man 
by pleading that some other people are worse than ourselves. 

I invoke with emphasis the exercise of your power in stamping out 
the spirit which is bringing reproach upon the honored name of this 
Commonwealth. Christianity demands it; public morality requires it; 
popular sentiment exacts it. 

The first two years of my administration passed without 
a lynching; but the utmost vigilance and free use of the 
military were demanded to prevent it. The entire cost of 
the military during the two years was less than two cents 
on each one thousand dollars of the taxable values of the 
State. A small sum indeed to suppress the spirit of mob- 
ocracy and preserve law and order. 

During the last two years of my term I was not so fortu- 
nate, for one white and two colored men suffered death 
without due process of law. I had no warning of impend- 
ing danger, and had no opportunity to take steps to prevent 
the act of the mob in either case. While I regretted, of 
course, when my term closed that I could not look back over 
the four years unstained by a lynching, still I was gratified 
that the number was so small, as compared with previous 
years, and that T had broken down almost entirely the spirit 



2$6 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

of lynching that had prevailed to an alarming extent in the 
State so long. 

In the spring of 1895 a dangerous condition of affairs 
sprang up in the Pocahontas coal mining region of the 
State. 

The Virginia and West Virginia mines were located close 
to each other and ran almost to the line between the States 
on either side. A strike, involving five or six thousand 
miners, occurred in the West Virginia mines, but the Vir- 
ginia miners had no grievance, refused to join the strikers 
and continued to work. The strikers were determined that 
the Virginia miners should not continue to mine, and they 
were preparing to use force, if necessary, to carry out their 
purpose. I was informed of the condition of affairs, and 
I determined that every Virginia miner who wanted to 
work should be protected if it took all the military power of 
the State. I believed that a fundamental principle of gov- 
ernment was involved; that it was the duty of Virginia's 
Executive to preserve the personal liberty of every citizen; 
that every man had the right to stop working if dissatisfied 
with his wages, and no man or set of men should compel 
him to continue. On the other hand, no man should by 
force, threat, or menace be compelled to withdraw from 
work ; that to deprive a citizen of his right to labor and earn 
a livelihood was to rob him of that which was guaranteed to 
him under the organic law of this land. I maintained 
further that it was the duty of Virginia to protect all prop- 
erty alike, regardless of its character ; that railroads, mines, 
factories, and industrial enterprises were as much entitled 
to protection from unlawful interference as any other spe- 
cies of property. 

With a fixed purpose to preserve order, uphold the 
law, protect property rights and the right of Virginia 
miners to continue their labor in the mines, if they so de- 
sired, I ordered a military force, under Major Simons, to the 
scene of the trouble, sufficiently large to overawe the law- 
less, as I hoped, if not strong enough to cope successfully 
with any outbreak. 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 2T, 1 / 

The presence of the soldiers had the effect I had hoped 
for; it prevented any violent demonstration upon the part 
of the strikers, but the strike continued and the condition 
remained so threatening that a military force was main- 
tained for ninety days, and until the strike "was declared 
off" and the West Virginia strikers returned to their shovels 
and picks. As soon as the Virginia miners found that they 
were safe from violence or interference they resumed their 
work in the mines, and the number grew daily, until the 
mining force ran up from 1,100 when the strike commenced 
to 2,300 when it closed and the military was withdrawn. 

The operation of the Virginia mines during the three 
months enabled many Virginia enterprises to keep their 
wheels running, and the presence of troops did all this, and 
besides protected a great trunk-line railway from threat- 
ened danger, secured every man in his right to pursue his 
daily work without molestation, and infringed upon no per- 
sonal or property right. No strike of such magnitude had 
ever occurred in Virginia or on her border before, and never 
before, since the war clouds of 1861-65 passed away, had 
military force been under arms more than a week at any one 
time. 

My course was severely criticised by labor unions, and I 
was regarded as an enemy to labor. No more unjust accu- 
sation could have been made. All my life my sympathies 
had been with the laboring classes, for I believed that in 
many instances they had been oppressed by giant corpo- 
rations. But in this instance it was laboring men against 
laboring men — the question whether or not one set of 
miners who had struck because their wages were not satis- 
factory should be permitted to coerce another set, whose 
wages were satisfactory, to stop work. It was a question 
of personal liberty — the right of a man to pursue his voca- 
tion without hindrance, the supremacy of law and order 
over disorder and mob violence. 

It was law against tyranny, for "Where law ends, tyr- 
anny begins." The law prevailed, and "the mob with the 
hands of Briareus, but the head of Polyphemus, strong to 



238 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

execute, but blind to perceive," was suppressed ; its madden- 
ing fury was not allowed to burst forth like a rolling Maine ; 
it was quenched as it was kindling. It was gratifying to 
me to find before long, that the laboring element realized the 
injustice that it had done me for my course. It arrived at 
the just conclusion that I was a friend of law and order, 
not an enemy to the laboring classes. 

On another occasion a body of thriftless men, numbering 
nearly a thousand, gathered principally from the Pacific and 
Northwestern States, known as "Coxey's army," settled 
themselves in Virginia on the Potomac, just opposite the 
National Capital. 

They had come on a "fool's mission" to make certain 
demands upon Congress. They prowled about for miles 
around in gangs, begging and terrorizing the women of the 
section, who were generally left during the daytime without 
male protectors. It was necessary to rid the State of these 
people, so the sheriff appealed to me for help, and I sent a 
small military force to require the "Army" to leave the 
State. My orders were obeyed, and the horde of vagrants, 
beggars, tramps and cranks recrossed the river, and the 
Washington authorities required them to disband and re- 
turn as best they could to the sections from whence they 
had come. 

Horse-race gambling in Alexandria County, in close 
proximity to the National Capital, had existed to such an 
extent as to become a shame and a disgrace to the Common- 
wealth. Pugilists had also made Virginia their place of 
meeting, and they had succeeded for some years in fre- 
quently "pulling off" a fistic encounter, brutal and cruel, de- 
grading in the extreme, and tending to inculcate in the 
minds of the young men that it is better to become a cham- 
pion prize-fighter than to excel in the mechanic arts, trades, 
or professions. It is with pardonable pride, I trust, when 
I say that during my administration both horse-race gam- 
bling and prize-fighting were driven from the State and 
forced to seek other climes. 

I surelv soon realized after the beginning of my incum- 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 239 

bency that the position of Governor was "no bed of ease," 
and that perplexities thick and fast would come to me. 

Under the law of Virginia the pardon power is lodged 
directly in the Governor, and it constituted the bane of my 
gubernatorial life. Other questions and other duties, how- 
ever difficult and hard to solve and discharge, were easy 
as compared with the question of Executive clemency. My 
ear was filled daily with plaintive appeals for pardons, abso- 
lute or conditional, and for commutations of sentences. 
Some of the most affecting scenes occurred in the Executive 
Office. Mothers, wives, sisters, and frequently children 
would come pleading for clemency for son, husband, 
brother or father over whom hung the stern sentence of 
confinement in the State penitentiary, sometimes of death. 

My experience was no doubt the experience of every Gov- 
ernor clothed with the power to pardon or commute. In 
my last general message to the legislature, in referring to 
this gubernatorial prerogative, I said : 

I have been most sorely tried. The Executive must be exceedingly 
cautious so as to guard against imposition ; at the same time, he must 
take care not to allow his suspicions to make him deaf to a worthy 
plea. He should have a heart to feel for another's woes, yet not so 
tender as to lead him to set aside the law's stern decree upon mere 
grounds of sympathy or the promptings of a maudlin sentimentality. In 
the exercise of this executive prerogative I have been guided by a 
desire to season justice with mercy when it could be done without 
danger to the interests of society. In all cases of convicts stricken with 
disease beyond hope of recovery and with death fast approaching I have 
felt that humanity demanded their discharge, that they might end their 
days among kindred bound to them by ties that even the disgrace of the 
prison garb could not sunder. In cases of youthful convicts I have 
frequently extended clemency, satisfied that continued confinement 
would harden them in crime, while with their experience as a warn- 
ing, pardons might encourage them and lead them to reform. In some 
instances I have regarded the punishments as excessive, and I have not 
hesitated to commute the sentences. It may be thought by some that I 
have exercised the pardoning power too freely. If I have made mis- 
takes, they have been on the side of mercy, which "more becomes a 
magistrate than too stern justice." 

During my term of four years I granted two hundred and 
twenty-four absolute pardons, seventy-eight conditional 
pardons, and eighty-seven commutations. 



24O FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

Some of these cases were unique, and I read the facts 
with the same avidity I had read the plots of many a tragic 
novel, and of course with far more interest and strain upon 
my faculties and nervous system, for it was serious reality, 
and not mere fiction ; the question of freedom or imprison- 
ment, or life or death was involved in each case, and the 
one or the other depended upon the decision of my fallible 
mind. As I look back over those days of anxious study I 
recall some instances that should be recorded in these remi- 
niscences. In one of the southwestern counties a man was 
convicted of the brutal murder of his wife in the presence of 
little children, the fruits of the marital union. The details 
were too horrible and blood curdling to perpetuate, and I 
shall not give them. The Court of Appeals of Virginia 
sustained the judgment of the trial court, and the day of 
execution was duly fixed. Perhaps a month before the 
sentence of the law was to be enforced a numerously-signed 
petition was presented to me "to save the condemned man 
from the halter," upon the ground that he was at the time 
of the commission of the deed mentally unbalanced and was 
at the date of the petition a physical and mental wreck; 
that "it would be a horrible thing to send a demented man 
to the scaffold." 

Many of his acts were pointed out to me by the petitioners 
as evidences of his insanity when he murdered his defense- 
less wife, and the petitioners were thoroughly convinced 
that if not insane then he was surely insane at the date of 
the petition. I considered with great care the first ques- 
tion presented and came to the conclusion that the acts 
which the petitioners regarded as the acts of an insane man 
when he took the life of his wife were perfectly consistent 
with the idea of sanity. I then took up his condition as 
then represented to me, and I believed I could discover evi- 
dence of feigning. But I was not willing to act upon my 
judgment. I had not seen the man; the petitioners had 
seen him and their opinions were worthy of weight. 

I did not intend to permit a crazy man to be hung. Ac- 
cordingly I sent the superintendents of three of Virginia's 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 24 1 

Insane Asylums — all of them distinguished in the knowl- 
edge and treatment of mental diseases — to make an exami- 
nation of the man and report to me their conclusions. They 
made the examination and reported unanimously that the 
man was perfectly sane and that he had been simply feign- 
ing insanity. 

Upon the receipt of this report I declined to interfere with 
the sentence. When the man, whose name was Nicholas, 
was informed that all hope was gone and that he must die, 
he threw aside his feigning, and not only admitted the wil- 
ful murder of his wife, but confessed, as I was informed, 
that he had previously committed two other murders. It is 
a most remarkable fact that he had deceived his jailer, the 
sheriff of the county, the clerk of the court, doctors, law- 
yers, and hundreds who had seen him in his prison cell. He 
had been a consummate actor, but he did not succeed in 
cheating the gallows of its own. 

In another instance, however, the shammer succeeded in 
liberating himself from the walls of the penitentiary through 
an absolute pardon. He had been tried three times upon 
a charge of murder; the first trial resulted in a verdict of 
murder in the first degree, which was set aside by the court 
upon some technicality; at the second trial there was a 
hung jury ; at the third calling of the case there was a com- 
promise verdict of six years in the penitentiary. About 
three months after his term of imprisonment commenced 
his friends represented to me that he had consumption and 
that he would soon die if continued in prison, and asked for 
his pardon. I declined. Some months thereafter they 
came back with an earnest plea for clemency, upon the 
ground that his disease had made rapid progress, and that 
he could not survive much longer. I declined again to in- 
terfere with the sentence, but I sent for the prison physi- 
cian and inquired of him as to the man's condition; the 
physician reported that his condition was very bad. I gave 
directions to the physician to report to me from time to 
time whether he was getting better or worse, and every re- 
port was "condition worse." 
16 



242 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

Finally, after he had served about twenty months of his 
sentence, a minister of the Gospel came to the Executive 
Office and told me that the man "was bound to die; that it 
was only a matter of a few days ; that he had just admin- 
istered the death sacrament to him and never expected to 
see him alive again." 1 sent for the physician and superin- 
tendent and they gave me a most distressing account of the 
convict's condition. 

I determined to act, and made the following endorsement 
on his papers : "This man is far gone with consumption ; 
has had several hemorrhages, and has been in the hospital 
nearly all the time he has been in prison. The physician 
thinks he is liable to die at any time from a hemorrhage. 
Case under consideration for months with doubts as to the 
propriety of clemency. The condition of the man is such 
that I think humanity calls for a pardon." 

He was given his liberty that he might die in the bosom 
of his family and friends. In less than three months he 
was in Richmond, dressed in the height of fashion, stopping 
at the famous Jefferson Hotel, with the flush of health upon 
his cheek. He had played his part to perfection, and se- 
cured his pardon and release from prison by most remark- 
able shamming. I think he is still living. 

I was impressed with the direful effects of the morphine 
habit. The use of this drug has sent many to prison. I 
have known men of the highest respectability, and women 
of the highest culture, fall into the deepest depths of degra- 
dation and shame, and be placed behind bars, by becoming 
slaves to this drug. 

I recall numerous instances of petitions for pardons or 
commutations of sentences of this unfortunate class. On 
a certain occasion a lady bearing every evidence of refine- 
ment, but most poorly clad, came to the Executive Office, 
and with intense emotion plead for her husband, who was 
under sentence for forgery. The story she told was most 
affecting. Her husband had been a prosperous man and 
his family comfortable and contented. He became ill 
and his physician administered morphine, and this worthy 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 243 

man and good citizen became "a morphine fiend," and 
lower and lower he fell, until he would resort to any means, 
however base, to procure the drug, ending finally by forging 
an order for ten dollars, all of which he expended in the 
purchase of the narcotic. He had previously sold nearly 
everything in his home, and pauperized his family. 

With tears streaming down her cheeks, this refined and 
once happy wife implored me to save her husband from the 
penitentiary, and save her and her children from the dis- 
grace which would attend them through life of being the 
wife and children of a man who had worn a convict's stripes. 
I was touched to the very quick by her sad story and tearful 
appeal, and told her I would inquire into the case immedi- 
ately, and she could come back and see me again in a few 
days. 

The man was still in jail, and I ordered his retention 
there until I directed otherwise. I found her story to be 
literally true, and I awaited her return. She soon came 
and I relieved her anxious suspense as quickly as possible 
by telling her that she and her children should be saved from 
the shame she so much deplored; but I thought her hus- 
band should be confined sufficiently long to break him from 
the morphine habit if possible; that I would commute his 
sentence to four months in jail — he should not go to the 
penitentiary. 

Never shall I forget the light and hope that came into her 
face. Her gratitude was expressed in the most beautiful 
language. Twelve months, or perhaps a little more, rolled 
round, when I received a neatly-written note from her tell- 
ing me that she was again happy, and asking me to let her 
call and see me. Her request was granted. She came. 
In appearance she was completely changed. She was well 
dressed, her face was as bright as a sun ray, and her eye 
beamed with happiness. She told me that the four month's 
confinement had cured her husband of the horrible habit; 
that he was "a man again," friends had helped him to start 
in business, he was doing well, and they were happy in each 
other's love. 



244 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

No act of my official life has given me more pleasure than 
the saving of this wife and her children from the shame 
that would have attended them through life, the reforming 
of the unfortunate husband, and bringing happiness into 
the desolate home. 

In the second year of my administration a petition for the 
pardon of a man who had been convicted of murder, by 
lying in wait, and sentenced to be hung, to whom a new 
trial had been refused by the appellate court, and sentence 
of death again pronounced upon him; who had been res- 
cued just before he was to be hung, by a large body of citi- 
zens, many of them of the highest standing, by battering 
down the jail doors and taking him from his cell in spite of 
his protest; who was then induced by his friends to flee to 
a distant Western State, where he lived under an assumed 
name for several years, greatly respected by the people; 
whose whereabouts were finally discovered and a requisi- 
tion made for him ; who was arrested and brought back and 
sentenced a third time, and his sentence then commuted by 
my predecessor to life imprisonment. 

He had borne a most excellent character, and his neigh- 
bors believed he was innocent of the charge and that his 
conviction was unjust and the result of perjured testimony 
and a weak defense. I had the case under consideration for 
many months, and finally reached the conclusion that he 
should be set free. He had been in the penitentiary for 
four years, and his conduct had been exceptionally good. 
For some time after the petition for his pardon was pre- 
sented I received a letter every week or two from his wife, 
pleading for his pardon ; but some weeks before he walked 
through the prison gate, a free man, her letters ceased to 
come. 

With the fond expectation of joining his wife and child- 
ren he took his departure for his home. But when he 
reached home he found neither wife nor children. She, 
who had written so many letters, pleading for his pardon, 
declaring "that she could not live without him," had a short 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR J | ; 

time before his release taken unto herself another spouse, 
and with him and her children had moved into Tennessee. 

Three times had this man stood up in the halls of justice 
and heard the awful question propounded, "What have you 
to say why sentence of death should not be pronounced upon 
you according to law?" Three times had he heard the 
judge's awful words, "It is the judgment of this court that 
you be now remanded to the jail from whence you came, 
and there confined until Friday (the day fixed), when you 
will be taken therefrom between sunrise and sunset by the 
sheriff and hanged by the neck until you be dead. May the 
Lord have mercy on your soul." He always declared he 
was innocent; he protested against being released from 
jail, and only fled to another State and changed his name 
in obedience to the wishes of his friends. He always said, 
as I was told after his pardon, that God knew he was inno- 
cent, and in His own good time He would give him his 
freedom. 

In 1885 an incendiary fire occurred in a certain town and 
a number of buildings, including several dwellings, were 
burned. 

A colored man was arrested for the crime. He con- 
fessed and implicated two colored women — one of them 
proved an alibi and was acquitted ; the other was convicted 
upon the unsupported testimony of the man, though there 
was evidence surely as reliable as his to the contrary. The 
court refused to set aside the verdict, though the Common- 
wealth's Attorney asked that it be done. 

The woman was taken to the penitentiary to serve a sen- 
tence of eighteen years. The man was hung and on the 
scaffold he stated that both women were innocent, that he 
only was guilty. 

This convicted woman remained in the penitentiary until 
1897, twelve years, when my attention was called to her 
case. I made inquiry and found the facts to be as I have 
stated them. I promptly pardoned her, but she had passed 
twelve years of her life in prison under a false charge and 
an unrighteous judgment. She was a negro and friendless, 



246 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

and while the injustice of her sentence was generally recog- 
nized, efforts in her behalf were neglected and the matter 
finally passed out of the minds of the thousands of just men 
in the community. 

There were two petitions presented to me for commuta- 
tions based upon grounds absolutely unique. 

In the first case a man had been killed by one of two 
burglars. The one first tried was convicted and sentenced 
to the penitentiary for a term of years. The other was con- 
victed and sentenced to be hung, and a petition was pre- 
sented for a commutation of his sentence to confinement in 
the penitentiary for a term of equal length as in the case 
of the one first tried, upon the ground that it was not proved 
which fired the fatal shot, and they should be punished 
alike. 

I refused to commute, stating that they were both princi- 
pals; that it made no difference which fired the shot that 
killed ; they were engaged in a common purpose and equally 
guilty, and both should have been hung; and because the 
first jury did not do its duty, was no reason why the just 
verdict of the second jury should be set aside; because full 
justice was not meted out in the first case, was no reason 
why it should not be in the latter. 

A powerful negro, after following a man around for 
hours, threatening to kill him, finally struck him a blow on 
the head with a club, which crushed his skull and caused 
his death in a few hours. It was stated in the petition that 
the murdered man had a thinner skull than most men ; that 
if his skull had been of the usual thickness it was most likely 
the blow would not have caused death. For that reason 
clemency was urged. 

I held that the negro when he struck the blow intended 
to kill, as indicated by his threats, and he had killed. That 
a man to whom God had given a thin skull should not be 
required to go around with a steel plate on his head to pre- 
vent being killed by a blow which would probably not kill 
a man with a thicker skull. The weapon used was such as 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 247 

to inflict serious injury at least to a thick skull, and death to 
a man with a thin skull, if used with force. 

One day the superintendent of the penitentiary came into 
the Executive Office and handed me a letter from a convict, 
confirmed all that the letter stated, as facts, and recom- 
mended a pardon. 

The letter set forth that he, the convict, had been four 
times sent to the penitentiary from three different counties, 
each time for grand larceny, burglary, or housebreaking ; 
that he had served thirty years in all within the prison walls ; 
that he was old and decrepit and nearly blind ; that he was 
a reformed man, but if still evil-disposed he was too weak 
and too nearly blind to commit crime, and that he longed to 
be free and spend his few remaining days outside of the 
penitentiary ; that he had friends who would give him a 
home and take care of him. 

I pardoned him. In less than sixty days he was in the 
city jail under conviction of house-breaking. He was a 
born thief. His long incarceration had wrought no change 
in him. His reformation was only skin deep, and though 
old, decrepit and partially blind, the instinct to steal was as 
strong as ever in him. He could no more change his nature 
than a leopard its spots. 

Virginia's wealth in her waters could hardly be overesti- 
mated. She has 201,216 acres of natural oyster beds, rocks 
and shoals, and 400,000 acres of planting ground of "barren 
area disposable by the Commonwealth for the propagation 
of oysters." There was for years a controversy between 
Virginia and Maryland as to the line between the States in 
the Tangier and Pocomoke Sounds, which are perhaps the 
finest natural oyster grounds known. 

This controversy was ultimately settled by a commission, 
and Virginia's contention was sustained. Lines were run. 
stakes were driven, and buovs were set, clearlv indicating 
the boundary between the States. 

The greater contention was over the question whether 
there was a Pocomoke River only or a Pocomoke River and 
a Pocomoke Sound. Maryland's contention was the first, 



248 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

Virginia's contention the latter. If there was no sound, 
Virginia would lose what was termed Pocomoke Sound and 
Maryland would gain and hold that rich oyster ground. 
The commission, however, decided there was a river and a 
sound, and that the river was in Maryland and the sound in 
Virginia, just as Virginia had contended. Old Colonial 
records were examined and musty books were consulted, re- 
sulting in a great victory for the old Commonwealth. If 
there had been an adverse decision, Virginia would have 
lost millions of her present prospective wealth, for she has 
a single piece of 1,200 acres of natural oyster ground, esti- 
mated to be worth intrinsically six million dollars. 

The legislature of Virginia had been carefully looking 
after the State's interests in her waters, and had passed 
acts forbidding the use of dredges on her natural beds, 
which were very destructive of them. The Maryland beds 
had been greatly injured by the failure of her legislature to 
take proper care of them. Virginia's grounds were there- 
fore rich and her citizens with their tongs and boats reaped 
abundant harvests each season. Maryland's grounds were 
poor, and her tongers had meagre returns for their labor. 
Our neighbors yearned for the productive grounds of the 
Tangier and Pocomoke, but they were the preserves of the 
Virginians, and a non-resident brought himself under the 
ban of Virginia's statute the moment he entered her waters 
and threw out his dredge or put down his tongs. But fre- 
quently the temptation was so great that when our guard- 
boats were out of the way, or under the cover of the night, 
the Marylanders would slip across the line and "steal, take, 
and carry away the property of the Commonwealth." Only 
a few days after my term as Governor commenced I was in- 
formed that "a large band of Maryland pirates" were and 
had been depredating upon the oyster beds of Tangier. 
The police steamer was ordered forthwith to repair to the 
scene and capture the "pirates" and destroy the boats. 
Upon the arrival of the steamer, which was after dark, quite 
an engagement took place between her and the "pirates," 
who were in great numbers ; but two large piratical oyster 



FROM CONGRESS TO GUBERNATORIAL CHAIR 249 

boats were captured, each loaded to the water's edge with 
choice bivalves. After this the legislature strengthened 
"Virginia's Oyster Navy," and incursions have been less 
frequent since. 

All this may be regarded by some as " a much-a-do about 
nothing." But this is not so. Virginia's wealth in her 
waters, — in her oyster and fishing grounds, — as I have said, 
is beyond computation. 

When I was a mere boy I heard Henry A. Wise, in his 
remarkable Anti-Know-Nothing Campaign, declare that no 
brain could approximate the value of Virginia's oyster 
grounds and fisheries. He lived in the very section of 
which I have been writing. He also declared that by 
proper management these properties could be made to yield 
a sufficient revenue to pay the expenses of Virginia's State 
government and the interest on her State debt. Gov- 
ernor Wise's opponents styled his statements "Wise's Oys- 
ter Fundum Views." While Governor Wises opinion 
was perhaps too optimistic, I am sure a very large revenue 
could now be raised on the lines he marked out. Whether 
it will ever be done is a question no man can answer. The 
subject is worthy of the most careful consideration, and the 
legislator who can devise a plan which will enable the State 
to reap a proper revenue from her valuable properties will 
write his name among her chief benefactors. 



CHAPTER VI 

EVENTS OE FORTY-EIGHTH To FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES. 

My First Seat in Congress Obtained Through a Contest — Committee 
Assignments— The Aesthetic Committee — The Portrait of Dolly- 
Madison— The McGarrahan Claim— The "Eads Bill"— Speaker 
Carlisle's Contest — Mr. McKinley Loses his Seat on a Contest— 
The Fifty-first Congress Becomes Republican— The Stormiest Con- 
gress in the History of the Government — Speaker Reed's Classifica- 
tion of Members— A Clash with the Speaker— Mr. McKinley Pours 
Oil upon the Troubled Waters— We Gain our Point, but to no 
Purpose — Filibustering to Kill a Force Bill — "Second Democratic 
Secession from the Union" — My Estimate of Thomas B. Reed. 

As I have stated, I obtained my first seat in Congress 
through a contest. I had been defeated by a small majority 
by fraudulent votes, and I was compelled to ask for justice 
at the hands of Congress. I got it, and was seated in the 
Forty-eighth Congress, just in time to cast my first vote for 
the Morrison Tariff Bill. My Congressional services em- 
braced the Forty-eighth, Forty-ninth, Fiftieth, Fifty-first, 
Fifty-second, and nearly all of the Fifty-third Congresses, 
resigning in December, 1893, to assume the duties of Gov- 
ernor. I shall endeavor to present with a truthful pen 
many of the most important and interesting occurrences 
during my twelve years' service, many exciting, some thrill- 
ing, some amusing. 

In the Forty-eighth and Forty-ninth Congresses I was 
a member of the Committee on Commerce; in the Forty- 
ninth I was Chairman of the Committee on Mines and Min- 
ing. In the Forty-ninth, Fiftieth, Fifty-first, Fifty-second, 
and Fifty-third I was a member of the Committee on Elec- 
tions, and of the Library Committee, and the last two terms 
Chairman of the Committee on Elections. 

To the Library Committee were referred all bills for the 
erection of monuments and statues, the purchase of paint- 
ings and pictures, and bills which could not be properly re- 
ferred to any other standing committee. It was what the 



FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRK.SSKS 25 I 

members of the House called the "Aesthetic Committee." 
Why I was appointed on it I never understood, for while I 
loved the beautiful in nature and art, yet I knew nothing of 
the theory or philosophy of taste, or the science of the ex- 
pression and embodiment of beauty by art, which is, I be- 
lieve, the definition of the word "aesthetics." The commit- 
tee consisted of only three members, and when a painting 
was presented for our consideration and critical examina- 
tion I felt how farcial was the idea of submitting its merits 
to me. Still, strange to say, my judgment in several in- 
stances was sustained by connoisseurs after the paintings 
were purchased; they had simply pleased my eye and I 
liked them; to my uneducated eye they were all right, but 
I felt all the time that no weight should be given to my 
opinion ; at least, my judgment should be taken cum grano 
sails, in fact with many grains of doubt. 

At one time there was a strong effort made to establish a 
National flower, and this brought before us many aestheti- 
cians from different sections of the country, and each was 
an enthusiast for his choice, and at great length frequently 
the beauty and grandeur of some flower would be presented 
with flowery eloquence. There were, however, only four 
flowers that had many advocates — they were the hollyhock, 
goldenrod, sunflower, and pansy. 

The strong and sturdy stock and the exquisite tinting of 
the hollyhock were urged with great earnestness ; the 
stately goldenrod, with its showy heads "waving like golden 
wands, making gay the whole land," was pressed with 
vigor; the sunflower was presented in a style so attractive 
as almost to make us blush with shame that we had always 
regarded it as only suitable for a corner of the kitchen 
garden; and the pansy, with its perennial growth, sepals. 
petals, and stamens was descanted upon at great length, and 
its advocates not only insisted that it should be made the 
National flow r er, but that a pansy with as many leaves as 
there were States in the Union should be placed upon our 
National flag, with a star in each leaf, representing a State. 

The "Aesthetic Committee" listened patiently to all these 



252 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

aestheticians, who were really entertaining; but the Com- 
mittee took no action, concluding that the Republic had 
lived long and prospered without a National flower, and 
would continue to grow and expand without it, and that as 
to the suggestion of changing the flag of the fathers that 
had floated so long wreathed in glories, it would be a sacri- 
lege to alter it by putting a pansy or any other flower upon 
it. So all the flowery advocates took their departure, feel- 
ing that the members of the committee lacked the neces- 
sary qualifications of their important positions. 

Among the paintings which were purchased by the Gov- 
ernment upon the recommendation of the Library Commit- 
tee was the portrait of Dolly Madison, the beautiful and 
charming wife of President Madison. It was life-size, and 
represented her standing, in full evening dress, ready for a 
reception occasion. Her refined and lovely features, exquis- 
ite figure, graceful poise, and elegant costume made the 
painting worthy of a place in any gallery of the highest 
works of art. I think it adorns the walls of the White 
House. It is well known she was a famous beauty, and that 
she had a charm of manner never excelled, if equaled, by 
any mistress of the Presidential Mansion before or since 
Madison's administration. 

I remember I took an old country constituent of mine to 
the Corcoran Art Gallery where this portrait was on exhi- 
bition. The display of paintings seemed to daze him ; for 
some minutes he stood speechless, gazing about the hall. 
I then said, "I want you to look around and tell me which 
of all these paintings you like best." We started on our 
circuit; every now and then he would say, "I like this pic- 
ture," or "this is mighty fine," or "this is very pretty"; 
finally we reached "Dolly" Madison. Instantly he ex- 
claimed : "My heavens, what queen is this ? Is that a 
natural picture? Did as pretty a woman ever live?" I 
told him she was not a queen, but an American woman, and 
that it was a true likeness of her. 

He said, "Are these paintings for sale?" I asked 
why? "Because I want to buy this picture, and I will 



FORTY-EIGHTH TO ElFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 253 

give as much for it as I gave for the finest horse on my 
farm — a full thoroughbred fellow, and I will pay the money 
right down." I said, "What did you give for your horse?" 
He replied, "Two hundred dollars." I then told him that 
the portrait was for sale, but it would take at least half of 
his fine large Shenandoah Valley farm to buy it. 

With a look of surprise he said: "Why, you don't say 
so. Well, I would rather have it than all the pictures I 
ever saw, but I can't give that much for it." I then told 
him whose portrait it was, and he informed me that when 
he was a boy his father visited Washington, and on his re- 
turn home told his mother he had seen the wife of President 
Madison, and he thought she must be the prettiest woman 
in the world. 

It was with difficulty I succeeded in getting the old gen- 
tleman from the gallery, and he informed me afterwards 
that the next day he returned to the gallery "to get a parting 
look at 'Dolly' Madison." 

My service as chairman of the Committee on Mines and 
Mining was pleasant and instructive. I learned much min- 
ing law, and was highly entertained by the discussion of 
bills in connection with mining matters and claims. 

The most interesting and important bill before the com- 
mittee was the bill relating to the celebrated McGarrahan 
claim, that had been before many previous Congresses. I 
had read of it for years, and somehow I had been unfavor- 
ably impressed with the claim, and was inclined to treat the 
bill as one without real merit, and to regard the claimant as 
visionary and persistent and possibly seeking to recover 
what he knew did not justly belong to him. Still it was 
my duty to hear him and to act the part of an unbiased 
judge. 

His counsel was Hon. Eppa Hunton, a former Congress- 
man from the Eighth Virginia district, a member of the 
commission appointed to decide the Presidential election of 
1876 (Hayes and Tilden) and afterwards a member of the 
United States Senate. The fact that General Hunton was 
the counsel in the case impressed me favorably, for 1 had 



254 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

confidence in his judgment and absolute faith in his integ- 
rity. I knew that the General had been deceived, or there 
were merits in the claim of McGarrahan. 

The bill was taken up before a full committee, and the 
opening argument was made by General Hunton. His ef- 
fort was powerful. The facts were laid before the commit- 
tee and everything connected with the claim was presented 
by the able counsel in his usual frank and candid manner, 
sustaining, I thought, every statement he made by record 
evidence. 

The facts succinctly stated were substantially these. 
McGarrahan, an Irishman, was a man far advanced in 
years. When he was a young man he was attracted to 
California, where he went into business. He soon pur- 
chased a Mexican land grant covering many acres, which 
was regarded as of small value at the time. He was as- 
sured that his title was good under the Treaty of Gaudalupe 
Hidalgo between the United States and Mexico, in which 
the United States obligated herself to respect and protect all 
grants of land previously made by Mexico. In the course 
of time some prospectors discovered valuable silver mines 
upon McGarrahan's grant, and a mining company was or- 
ganized, took possession of the mines, and then secured a 
grant of the lands from the United States. Many black- 
spots appeared in the mode and manner in which the grant 
was obtained from the United States, and they were pointed 
out by General Hunton with the boldness and courage that 
had ever characterized him in the vindication of what he 
believed to be right. 

McGarrahan instituted proceedings to recover his land 
and to hold this Government to its treaty obligation, but his 
opponents were strong and powerful — they were coining 
money from the mines, and could afford to fight and fight 
with desperation ; McGarrahan was single-handed and 
with little means ; the Government gave him no aid, in fact 
gave him the cold-shoulder. 

After exhausting without avail all court remedies, he ap- 
pealed to Congress, and for years and years he was seeking 



FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRKSSKS 255 

justice; but though several reports were made in his favor, 
he never succeeded in securing the passage of a relief meas- 
ure, and some years ago, while still fighting and hopeful, 
but worn out and exhausted, he died suddenly in the Capital 
of the Nation, to whose authorities he had been appealing 
for justice from vigorous young manhood to decrepit old 
age. 

General Hunton, his able and faithful counsel, still lives, 
ripe in years, vigorous in intellect, and bedecked with mili- 
tary and civic honors. 

I found my service on the Committee on Commerce 
agreeable. It had many interesting bills before it. Its 
chairman was John H. Reagan, of Texas, the Postmaster- 
General of the Confederacy, and now, at the age of eighty- 
five years, the sole surviving member of the Cabinet of 
President Jefferson Davis. When chairman of the commit- 
tee he was possessed of all his mental faculties, and was an 
exceedingly strong man. Among the members of the com- 
mittee were Charles F. Crisp, of Georgia, whom I shall no- 
tice more particularly later; William B. Bynum, of Indiana, 
who attained considerable prominence in the House, and 
Martin L. Clardy, of Missouri, a man of decided ability and 
force of character. 

Perhaps the most interesting subject before this com- 
mittee during my membership of it was the Isthmus of Pan- 
ama Ship Railway Bill, known as "The Ead's Bill." It 
attracted widespread attention, and the discussions bet' >iv 
the Committee were animated and instructive. 

The bill provided for the building by the Government of 
a huge railway across the Isthmus of Panama, of sufficient 
dimensions and strength to carry the largest vessels of com- 
merce and war vessels from ocean to ocean, a distance of 
more than a hundred miles. Powerful machinery was to be 
used in lifting vessels from the waters of one ocean and 
placing them upon railway trucks and wheels, and then 
lifting them from the trucks and wheels and setting them 
afloat in the waters of the other ocean. 



256 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

Many believed the scheme was feasible and would be of 
inestimable value to commerce, and to the United States 
Government in time of war; others regarded it as vision- 
ary and impracticable; that it would be hardly possible to 
construct a railway of sufficient strength to transport such 
immense vessels, and that accidents were liable to occur and 
leave a vessel high and dry on land many miles from water 
with no means of relief, and that the owners of vessels 
would not trust them on trucks and wheels on a tour over- 
land for a distance of a hundred miles or more ; that the ex- 
pense of constructing the railway would be enormous, for 
the road bed would have to be as firm as the rock of Gibral- 
tar, and the nature of the soil was treacherous in the ex- 
treme. Behind the bill was a powerful lobby, and mem- 
bers had it sounded in their ears on all occasions; a 
member remarking that he had it dished out to him at 
breakfast, dinner, and supper for weeks, ad> nauseam. 

Before any decisive action was taken upon the bill the 
projector of the enterprise died, and interest in it instantly 
waned, and before long the bill was buried in the Con- 
gressional vault of dead schemes. 

In the Forty-ninth Congress the seat of Hon. John G. 
Carlisle, who had been elected by the Democrats Speaker of 
the House of Representatives for his second term, was con- 
tested. 

His district was overwhelmingly Democratic; he had 
been renominated by acclamation ; the Republicans made no 
nomination, and his party, believing there would be no op- 
position to him, quietly "slept on their oars." On the eve 
of the election a labor candidate was put in the field, and 
the Republicans and labor men, who had been quietly or- 
ganizing, turned out in force, while the Democrats, particu- 
larly in the rural sections of the district, not dreaming of 
opposition, remained at home in immense numbers. The 
result was that Carlisle won only "by the skin of his teeth," 
and his majority was so small as to induce the defeated 
labor candidate to contest his seat. 



FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 257 

With this contest on his hands the Speaker declined to 
appoint the Committee on Elections, and referred the se- 
lection of its members to the House. The two parties met 
in caucus respectively, and each selected its members — the 
Democrats nine, the Republicans six. Absolutely unsolic- 
ited, and in fact to my surprise, the committee appointed by 
the Democratic caucus to make recommendations, in its 
report, named me as a member, ranking me second — Crisp 
being first. 

The caucus adopted the committee's report. Of course I 
appreciated beyond measure the honor, for, as is well 
known, the committee on Elections is the ranking commit- 
tee of the House of Representatives. For five terms, or ten 
years, I was continued on this committee, and. as stated, 
was the chairman of it the last two terms of my Congress- 
ional service, succeeding Crisp. Every member was a law- 
yer. When I was first appointed on the committee, and 
for several terms thereafter, partisan feeling ran high, and 
I regret to say that the committee was not as calm in its 
consideration and as judicial in its judgment of cases as it 
has since become. The labor was immense; many records 
covered as much as twelve hundred pages of closely printed 
matter, some of them reaching two or three thousand pages. 

Among the ablest members at different times, and men 
who distinguished themselves, were Crisp, of Georgia : 
Lodge, of Massachusetts, later Senator from his State: 
Lockwood, of New York; Rowell, of Illinois; Moore, of 
Texas; Cobb, of Alabama; Johnston, of South Carolina; 
Greenhalz, of Massachusetts, afterwards Governor of that 
Commonwealth; Lawson, of Georgia; Painter, of Ken- 
tucky, and Brown, of Indiana, who succeeded me as chair- 
man. 

Numerous were the contests and variant were the 
grounds. From mere irregularities in the conduct of the 
election, or in the returns — to stuffing of ballot-boxes, re 
ceiving and counting illegal votes, and refusal of legal votes, 
intimidating of voters, false swearing, and false returns 
and frauds of almost every conceivable kind were alleged in 
17 



258 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

the notices of contest, and the most voluminous depositions 
in support or denial of the charges were taken, and the 
whole dumped before the committee, and then argued by the 
attorneys for the contestants and contestees respectively, 
often with great force, always with intense vigor. Most of 
the contests came from the Southern districts, where the 
negro voting population was large, the contestants always 
alleging fraud and a conspiracy to deprive "the ebony 
brother" of his right of franchise. 

But there were some noted cases from Northern and 
Western districts, in which the vote of "the ward of the 
Nation" cut no figure. 

The Carlisle contest gave little trouble, and it was soon 
settled and the contestee's right to his seat confirmed with- 
out the barest suspicion of any wrong. 

It has no doubt almost been forgotten that the seat of 
William McKinley in the Forty-ninth Congress was con- 
tested by Jonathan Wallace, and that the man who was 
afterwards Governor of Ohio and then became the Presi- 
dent of the United States, and met his death at the hands 
of an anarchistic assassin, and whose death was as deeply 
mourned in the South as in the North, lost his seat in that 
Congress. But it was simply a question as to the legality 
of a certain class of voters that were cast for both candi- 
dates. The committee held that they were illegal, and in 
throwing them out it left a small majority for Wallace, and 
McKinley, the leading apostle of "protection," was com- 
pelled to yield his seat to a Democrat, but to return to the 
next succeeding Congress with a majority that could not be 
questioned. 

It may also have escaped the public memory that James 
E. Campbell, of Ohio, afterwards Democratic Governor of 
that State, secured a seat in the Forty-ninth Congress at the 
end of a successful contest. He contested upon the ground 
of the reception of the ballots of persons not qualified to 
vote, and a sufficient number of such ballots were found by 
the committee to have been cast and counted against him to 



FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 2$ > 

give him a majority, after they were deducted from the 
total returned vote of his opponent. 

It was a most remarkable coincidence that these two 
future Governors of the great State of Ohio should have 
been involved in contests — the one losing and being un- 
seated, the other winning and being seated. 

It will be remembered that in the Fifty-first Congress the 
tables were turned on the Democrats and the body became 
Republican, but by a narrow majority, I think of four or 
five votes, and Thomas B. Reed was elected Speaker. 

This Congress was the stormiest in the history of the 
Government. It was immediately determined by the new 
Speaker on the organization that the rules should be 
changed, "so that the House could do business," as he lacon- 
ically expressed it. The idea was to deprive the minority 
(the Democrats) of the power to prevent or retard the pass- 
age of measures by dilatory means and "filibustering." 
The Democrats were greatly aroused and excited, for they 
anticipated the introduction of radical measures, and par- 
ticularly a "Force Bill," which, if passed, the Southern 
Democrats believed would mean Federal interference with 
elections in the South and Federal bayonets at the polls. 
The Democrats stood in a solid phalanx against the pro- 
posed rules; there were also a number of Republicans who 
looked with disfavor upon the proposition. 

The Speaker, with great astuteness, determined to ascer- 
tain the names of the disagreeing Republican members, and 
convert them, if possible; so he had a careful canvass of 
the whole Republican side made, under the following in- 
structions : Mark opposite the names of opposing members 
the letter K (meaning kicker), or H. K. (meaning hard 

kicker), or D. H. K. (meaning d hard kicker). The 

canvass was made and the result reported to him. Upon 
an inspection of the report he found he could not, as matters 
stood, risk his rules to the vote of the House. He then 
directed the Committee on Elections to get to work and see 
if the Republican majority could not be increased by turn- 
ing Democrats out and seating Republicans in their stead. 



260 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

There were very many contests — three from West Virginia 
alone, and the committee very promptly took up these cases 
and pushed them with energy. In an incredibly short time 
two of them, Smith versus Jackson and Atkinson versus 
Pendleton, were reported to the House, with the recom- 
mendation in each that the Democrat be unseated and the 
Republican seated. 

The case of Smith versus Jackson was called up one Fri- 
day morning, and the argument ran through that day and 
the next until about nine o'clock in the night, when, by pre- 
vious arrangement among the Democratic members of the 
Committee, I took the floor to make the closing speech for 
the sitting member, Judge Jackson, and with the under- 
standing that I was to hold the floor and force an adjourn- 
ment at midnight, if possible, if not, continue on my feet. 
The blood of both sides of the chamber was at more than 
fever heat; the Republicans had expressed a determination 
to seat the contestant before adjournment, and the Demo- 
crats were equally determined that the contestee should not 
be unseated that night. With no rules, and the House gov- 
erned by general parliamentary law, my time was unlimited 
and there was no power to take the floor from me. 

Realizing that I had in all probability a heavy task before 
me, after speaking for some time, in order to take a rest and 
also to kill time, I called a page and sent the testimony to 
the Clerk of the House to be read. It was a volume of sev- 
eral hundred pages. The Speaker forbade the reading of 
the depositions by the Clerk, and they were brought back to 
me. I opened the volume and commenced reading: The 
Speaker instantly said, "The gentleman from Virginia can- 
not read that book." I disregarded what he said and con- 
tinued to read ; the Speaker rapped me to order, but I con- 
tinued to read and the gavel continued to rap. By this time 
the House was in an uproar and like a bedlam ; the Demo- 
crats were cheering me and the Republicans were yelling 
their disapproval of my course. 

Finally there was a lull and I said, as near as I can re- 
call the words : "Mr. Speaker, I have the floor and have 



F0RTY-K1GHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 261 

the right to occupy it until I voluntarily yield it. I am dis- 
cussing the right of the contestee to the seat he occupies in 
this august parliamentary body. In order that the members 
of this House may vote intelligently upon the merits of this 
case, they should know the facts, and I propose to lay the 
facts before them from the lips of the witnesses themseh 
making their testimony part of my speech. I am in the ex- 
ercise of my right, and I intend, Mr. Speaker, to continue to 
read this testimony until I conclude it, unless I drop from 
exhaustion." 

With this announcement of my intention the cheers and 
yells again came with greater intensity. I remained on my 
feet and continued to read, and the gavel continued to de- 
scend with giant power. 

Finally from about the center of the Republican side a 
gentleman arose and waved his hand for order. He was 
recognized at once and a calm fell upon the House. In the 
most pleasant manner he requested me to suspend for a 
moment. This I did, with the understanding that it would 
not interfere with my right to the floor. Addressing the 
Chair he expressed his surprise at the disorder. Said the 
members should not forget who they were or where they 
were. That he could very clearly see the purpose of the 
"gentleman from Virginia," yet as he had the floor he had 
the right to use his time as he saw fit, and to read whatever 
he pleased, so he confined himself to the subject before the 
House and read what was germane to it. He concluded 
by appealing for order. His words had magic effect. This 
man was William McKinley. 

As soon as he finished speaking, Crisp asked if 1 would 
yield for a motion to adjourn. Of course I yielded, but be- 
fore the motion was put an agreement was reached to the 
effect that I should have an hour and a half to conclude my 
remarks on Monday morning, and that a final vote should be 
taken not later than six o'clock Monday afternoon. 

Then about eleven o'clock the House adjourned, and we 
had accomplished our purpose — an idle purpose it is true. 
and simply the result of intense partisan feeling. On Mon- 



262 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

day morning, in opening my speech, I remarked jocosely 
that I presumed I had read enough of the evidence in the 
case to enable the House to vote intelligently, and would not 
therefore consume valuable time by reading more. 

I occupied the time allotted to me; the discussion was 
closed by a Republican member of the Committee, the vote 
was taken, Judge Jackson was unseated and Smith was 
seated, and the Republican majority was increased two 
votes. 

My course, coupled with some criticism of the Speaker 
in my remarks Monday morning, offended him, and for 
some days he treated me coolly, but it passed off and we 
became good friends, and continued so to the end of my 
Congressional service. 

The case of Atkinson versus Pendleton followed imme- 
diately; Atkinson was seated and a Republican majority of 
two more was secured. 

Thus the process of reducing the Democratic strength and 
increasing the Republican strength was carried on with 
rapidity, until the Republican majority had reached a point 
where the Speaker felt that he could safely trust his new 
rules to a vote of the House, particularly as all the "kickers" 

and ''hard kickers," and even "d hard kickers," with, I 

think, two or three exceptions, had been induced to take the 
Speaker's view of matters; so the report of the Committee 
on Rules was submitted, and after a long and acrimonious 
debate the report was adopted and the new rules enabling 
the majority to ride rough-shod at will over the minority 
became the law of the House. The terms "The Reed Con- 
gress" and "Czar Reed" have passed into history. 

After the adoption of the new rules the Committee on 
Elections proceeded more leisurely, and the next contest 
that created much feeling was that of John R. Langston 
versus Edward C. Venable, from the Fourth Congressional 
district of Virginia. 

The contestant was a colored man, though almost white, 
highly educated, and intellectually an ornament to his race; 
the contestee was a prominent and cultured gentleman, of a 



FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRESSES 263 

noted Virginia family, and an excellent Representative. 
The Fourth Virginia district had a large majority of col- 
ored voters, and whenever that was the case our Repub- 
lican brethren on the committee were disposed to assume 
that the district was necessarily a Republican district, and 
if a Democrat was elected it was, beyond question, in their 
opinion, the result of fraud. 

The management of this case on the floor of the House, 
in behalf of the contestee, was assigned to me, and while the 
Democrats had no hope of retaining the contestee in his 
seat, a Force Bill was awaiting consideration, the session 
was drawing to a close, and various appropriation bills had 
to be passed, so it was determined to use this election case 
to prevent the passage of the Force Bill ; that is, to consume 
so much time that only enough would be left for the discus- 
sion and passage of the appropriation bills, thus cutting out 
the measure the Southern Democrats and the white people 
of the South generally feared so much. 

The tactics of preventing a quorum and of making dila- 
tory motions were resorted to as a means of accomplishing 
our purpose. The Democrats remained away from the ses- 
sions of the House; they went off in groups to unknown 
places, where they could not be found by the Republican 
sergeant-at-arms when a call of the House was ordered. I 
was left as the sole Democratic member on the floor, to 
make dilatory motions and consume in various ways as 
much time as possible, and raise the question of "no quo- 
rum." 

The Republicans could not muster a quorum, and calls of 
the House were frequent; some of the Democrats who were 
loitering about the Capitol would come in, answer to their 
names, and then retire, so that when a vote was taken there 
would still be "no quorum," and the condition would be the 
same as it was before the call ; whenever the roll was called 
on a motion I would simply respond to the announcement 
of the result by the clerk, "No quorum, Mr. Speaker." 

This "marching up the hill and marching down again" 
continued for days; a motion to adjourn would be made 



264 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

and carried sometimes early, sometimes late in the day. 
Many Republican members were absent from the city, and 
the wires were kept busy with peremptory orders for them 
to return to their seats. Finally the Speaker succeeded in 
securing a quorum and the vote was taken, and Mr. Venable 
was unseated by the vote of every Republican member. 
But the Democrats had scored a victory by staving off the 
consideration of the Force Bill, and in fact killing it for all 
time. 

During this struggle two things occurred about which 
much was said. One day the Speaker ordered the door used 
for members to enter or retire by, which had always 
been left unfastened when there was a call of the House, to 
be locked ; so that Democrats who entered the hall to answer 
to their names could not retire after answering, as they had 
been doing. Hon. Constantine Buckley Kilgore, a stalwart 
Texas representative, and one of the most genial and popu- 
lar men in the body, answered to his name on the call, and 
immediately went to the door which I have mentioned, but 
found it fastened. Turning to the doorkeeper he said, 
"What's the matter with this door?" The doorkeeper re- 
plied, "It is locked; the Speaker directed it to be locked." 
"Locked," said Kilgore; "well, I will unlock it," so he 
raised his foot and with his number nine heel he kicked the 
door open and went his way. There was no more locking 
of that door. 

On another day during this contest a photographer was 
sent into the gallery and a photograph of the House was 
taken. It showed the Speaker in the chair, the clerks at 
their desks, the other officers at their respective posts, the 
Republican members in their seats, and a solitary Democrat 
(myself) in his seat. It was labeled: 

"Second Democratic Secession from the Union." 

On the back was an explanation of the picture from a 
Republican view point. 

The Democrats were represented as having left the hall 
to prevent the transaction of business, and with neglecting 
their duties, and referring to me as "a rebel" left by the 



FORTY-EIGHTH TO FIFTY-THIRD CONGRES- 265 

Democrats to raise points of order and make dilatory mo- 
tions to consume time which the country demanded should 
be devoted to the interests and welfare of the Republic. 
This photograph, in large form, was circulated as a Repub- 
lican document in the next campaign, and I have a copy of 
it well preserved. 

Before concluding as to the Fifty-first, or "Reed" Con- 
gress, I want to put on record my estimate of Thomas B. 
Reed. He was an intellectual giant; a man of stupendous 
will-power, a born leader of men. He was among the 
strongest debaters I have ever heard. In "a cut and come," 
thrust and parry, running debate I have never heard his su- 
perior. His sarcasm was biting, his invective was terrific. 
He had much wit, and used it with great effect. He was 
an extreme partisan, but with it all he had a big heart and 
most generous impulses. In his death the country sustained 
a heavy loss. 



CHAPTER VII 

SOME NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASES. 

The Democrats in Power Again— Crisp Elected Speaker — Dawning of 
the Day of Recognition of the South — Reed's Desire as to Demo- 
cratic Speakership — I am made Chairman of Committee on Elections 
— The Celebrated Case of Noyes versus Rockwell — The Facts — The 
Origin of "Where am I at" — Bourke Cochran's Speech for Rockwell 
—My Reply and the Effect of a Happy Anecdote— Old John 
Robinson's Plan to Carry an Election— The Case of Waddill versus 
Wise. 

The Democrats returned to power in the House of Repre- 
sentatives in the Fifty-second Congress, with a majority of 
over forty. Many candidates appeared for the high prize 
of Speakership. Those who remained to the end were 
Roger Q. Mills, of Texas; Charles F. Crisp, of Georgia; 
Benton 'McMillin, of Tennessee; William M. Springer, of 
Illinois, and William H. Hatch, of Missouri. 

Crisp and I had entered Congress together; he had been 
a lieutenant in the Tenth Virginia Infantry — a Page County 
company, and I had heard much of him during the war; 
we were members of the same committees for years, and we 
had become close and fast friends. I had seen him tried in 
many ways, and he had always measured up to the full 
standard of exalted manhood. I recognized his great abil- 
ity, cool head, and fine judgment. He had made a splendid 
reputation as chairman of the Committee on Elections, and 
in many contests on the floor with the ablest and best. I 
espoused his cause from the start, and rejoiced when he won 
the prize. 

When the caucus met on Saturday night preceding the 
Monday fixed for the meeting of the House, on the first 
roll call the candidates, in point of strength, stood in the 
following order: Crisp, Mills, McMillan, Springer, and 
Hatch. Crisp led Mills about fourteen votes, but during the 
evening McMillan and Hatch were withdrawn, and Crisp's 



SOME NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASKS 267 

lead over Mills was reduced to four votes. An adjourn- 
ment was then taken until Monday night. Everybody 
recognized as a fact that the nominee would be either Crisp 
or Mills, and that the friends of Springer could name the 
next Speaker. 

Crisp had selected the astute and diplomatic Catchings, of 
Mississippi, the alert, energetic and prudent Montgomery, 
of Kentucky, and myself to look after his interests and con- 
duct his fight, but we took counsel constantly of him, and 
he proved himself to be a leader of remarkable skill. 

Early in the contest we found there was friction between 
Mills and Springer, and it grew each day. Crisp and his 
friends sympathized with Springer, believing that he was 
being unjustly treated. 

Monday night came and the caucus met. The voting 
commenced with Crisp still leading. Various roll calls de- 
veloped no change. About ten o'clock a recess was taken, 
and just before the caucus reconvened we received at Crisp's 
headquarters direct and authentic information that Springer 
would withdraw his own name, vote for Crisp, and carry 
his strength, as far as possible, to Crisp. This lifted a 
mighty weight from our spirits, and we could see Crisp's 
star fast ascending. Springer held the balance of power: 
we knew there were some of his friends who held Crisp as 
their second choice, and if Springer could swing a good 
number of his devoted followers to the Georgia statesman. 
Crisp's success was assured; this we confidently believed 
Springer could do. With buoyant hearts Catchings, Mont- 
gomery, and I went among Crisp's friends and whispered 
the cheering news into their ears, strengthening the weak- 
kneed and rendering firmer the steadfast. The recess ended 
and the members took their seats and the voting was re- 
sumed; the first call of the roll showed no change, until the 
call was over, when a prominent Southerner, who had been 
supporting Crisp, sprang to his feet and changed his vote 
from Crisp to Mills; instantly he was surrounded by friends 
of Crisp, begging him to stand firm, "as he had done on 
many a fiery field," and before the result could be announced 



268 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

he changed his vote back to Crisp, and the status quo was 
preserved. Then came the second and last call ; the climax 
was at hand. 

Before many members had responded the tall and erect 
figure of Springer was seen entering the hall. With beam- 
ing face and bold stride he advanced to the center of the 
south side of the chamber and stood until his name was 
called. Silence reigned. After thanking his friends for 
their support, he withdrew his name, and said, "Mr. Chair- 
man, it is with unfeigned pleasure I cast my vote for Charles 
F. Crisp, of Georgia." 

Cheer after cheer resounded throughout the chamber, and 
the corridors rang with huzzas for Crisp; then the friends 
of Springer, as their names were called, responded "Crisp," 
and when the call was finished the Springer men who had 
voted for him before his withdrawal changed their votes 
for Crisp, with some exceptions, among them William Jen- 
nings Bryan, who preferred a man who was not a candi- 
date to either of the gentlemen in the field, both being from 
the South. He adhered to Springer to the last. Crisp's 
majority I think exceeded twenty. 

The result of this contest brought the dawning of the 
day of recognition of the South's coequal right in all the 
affairs of the Nation. A Southern man and an ex-Confed- 
erate soldier was selected to preside over the House of Rep- 
resentatives of the Republic. The nomination of Crisp by 
the votes of Northern men and ex-Union soldiers, as well 
as Southern men and ex-Confederate soldiers, broke down 
the barrier that had been set up against men of Southern 
birth, lineage, raising and citizenship holding high and 
important National positions unless conferred by their re- 
spective States. Crisp was the first man who had worn the 
gray or sympathized with the South to be elected Speaker, 
since R. M. T. Hunter, of Virginia, graced the position 
prior to the internecine strife. Speaker Carlisle, while a 
Kentuckian, was neither a Confederate soldier nor a sym- 
pathizer with the cause of secession. He took the test oath, 



SOME NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASES 269 

which he could not have done if his sympathies had not been 
with the Union in the bloody era of 1861-65. 

The installation of Crisp and the placing of the Speaker's 
gavel and mace in his hands constituted the beginning of a 
bright epoch in our history, and was like a rainbow in South- 
ern skies, betokening clearer weather after so many years 
of lowering clouds. 

Mills's service in Congress far exceeded in length the ser- 
vice of Crisp; in fact Crisp's Congressional experience in 
point of time was less than that of any of the candidates. 
His election then was, indeed, a magnificent triumph, and so 
ably, worthily and acceptably did he wear his honors 
through the Fifty-second Congress that he was renominated 
without a shadow of opposition in the Fifty-third Congress, 
and but for his untimely death his name and fame would 
have become brighter and brighter as the succeeding years 
had rolled their cycles. He was an ornament, not only to his 
State, but to the whole country, and by his successful career 
he exemplified in the highest degree the possibilities which 
our form of government and the character of our institu- 
tions present to the youth of our land. 

The ability of all the candidates for Speaker was beyond 
question, but none of them had the combined qualities of 
ability, temperament, judgment, diplomacy and industry in 
so marked a degree as Crisp. 

Before the Democratic caucus of the Fifty-second Con- 
gress met it was said that Thomas B. Reed entered a room 
at Chamberlain's, where a number of Republican members 
were whiling away an evening in social intercourse, inter- 
mixed with some politics, and he was asked who would be 
the Democratic nominee for Speaker. He replied. "I have 
not been in the rebel camp, and don't know what they will 

do; but is the man I want them to select, for if 

he is put in the Speaker's chair, I flatter myself 1 can make 
him fling his gavel at my head once a day. at least, while 
the session lasts." 

He referred to a certain candidate who. though a gentle- 
man of superb ability, was very impulsive and quick-tern- 



270 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

pered. It is only necessary to say that the Maine statesman 
did not get his choice, and that as able as he was, and as ir- 
ritating as he often was, he never succeeded in gaining any 
advantage over the Speaker who succeeded him. 

It goes without saying that all of the five aspirants for 
Speakership honors in the Fifty-second Congress were high 
and true men, and adorned their seats. Mills was sent to 
the United States Senate; McMillin became Governor of 
his State, and Springer was appointed to a judgeship in one 
of the Territories. Alas ! To-day only Mills and McMillin 
are living; the others have passed over the river, but they 
left their marks deeply chiselled in their country's memory. 
Hatch was the assistant commissioner of the Confederate 
States for the exchange of prisoners, with his headquarters 
at Richmond, the Capital of the Confederacy during the 
war. 

When the committees of the Fifty-second Congress were 
formed I was made chairman of the Committee on Elec- 
tions, and I was re-appointed to this position in the Fifty- 
third Congress. 

There was less party rancor and partisan feeling displayed 
by these two committees than by previous ones. Every 
member seemed to realize that it was high time for contested 
election cases to be calmly and dispassionately considered, 
judged, and determined upon their merits. While I had 
never done violence to my conscience in any case, I fear I 
was not an entirely cool, calm, and unbiased judge, for I 
may have been warped to some extent at times by my party 
sympathies. In assuming the duties of chairman I resolved 
that I would act the part of a just and impartial judge to 
the very best of my ability, and this resolution I endeavored 
to keep with absolute sincerity. 

In writing of the work of these committees I can not 
fail to give briefly the details of a case which attracted 
widespread attention, and will long be remembered by rea- 
son of the prominent connection of certain gentlemen of 
National reputation with it. The papers of the country 
were filled with it, and its discussion on the floor of Con- 



SOME NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASES 2/ I 

gress lasted for four days, drawing immense crowds to the 
Capitol. It was the case of Noyes versus Rockwell, from 
the Buffalo district, State of New York, and in which David 
B. Hill, Bourke Cochran, John R. Fellows, and General 
Wheeler figured conspicuously, and in which the expression 
"Where am I at, Mr. Speaker," which has become famous, 
was used. 

Succinctly stated, the facts were as follows : Noyes had 
been the Republican and Rockwell the Democratic candi- 
date. The returns showed a very small majority for Rock- 
well. Noyes attacked the returns in the courts, won his 
point there, entitling him to the seat ; but pending the pro- 
ceedings the Board of Canvassers issued a certificate of elec- 
tion to Rockwell, and compelled Noyes to serve his notice of 
contest; Rockwell answered, and depositions were taken. 
When the roll of members was prepared by the clerk of the 
House, Rockwell holding the certificate of election, his name 
was placed upon the roll. 

The consideration of the contest came on in due time in 
the committee, and after elaborate argument the commit- 
tee, by a vote of eleven (five Democrats and six Republicans) 
to three (all Democrats) decided that Noyes was entitled to 
the seat. The fifteenth member, a Democrat (Hon. Daniel 
N. Lock wood) from the Thirty-second New York district, 
declined to vote. The majority directed me to prepare the 
report of the Committee awarding the seat to Noyes, which 
I did. A minority report was prepared by the three dissent- 
ing Democratic members, Messrs. Cobb, of Alabama ; 
Johnston, of South Carolina, and Gillespie, of Pennsylvania. 
In a short time the case was called up on the floor of the 
House for consideration. Judge Lawson, of Georgia, a 
Democrat, a splendid lawyer, made the opening speech in 
behalf of Noyes, the contestant ; he was followed by Judge 
Cobb, a Democrat, in a speech of four hours in behalf of 
Rockwell, the contestee. For two hours Cobb spoke with 
power; then his physical strength seemed to wane, but with 
great tenacity he continued until he had consumed his time, 
then dropped into his seat, perfectly exhausted. He was 



2j2 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

frequently interrupted by questions, and at the end of one 
of these interruptions, in his weak physical condition his 
mind refused to act for the moment and he could not catch 
up the thread of his speech, so in a half-dazed condition lie 
gazed for an instant at the Speaker, and said, "Will you tell 
me where I am at, Mr. Speaker." Everybody realized his 
exhausted condition and that his mind simply became inert 
for an instant, and nothing was thought of the remark. I 
was sitting within ten feet of him, listening to every word 
that fell from his lips, for I had to reply to him. In less than 
a minute his mental faculties became active, he took up the 
argument where he had left it when he was interrupted, and 
continued to speak until his allotted time had been con- 
sumed. 

A short time after this episode, Hon. Thomas S. Watson, 
of Georgia, undertook to attack the personnel of the House 
of Representatives, charging dissipation and drunkenness, 
and pointed out the condition and remark of Judge Cobb as 
evidence sustaining the charge. I regarded the general 
charge as unjust and unfounded, and his allusion to Judge 
Cobb as unjustifiable and cruel. 

Judge Cobb demanded an investigation, and the commit- 
tee, after hearing all the evidence, promptly acquitted him 
of the charge. But Watson had spread the expression, 
"Will you tell me where I am at, Mr. Speaker," everywhere, 
and thousands of times it has been repeated. I have given 
space to this explanation of the origin of the saying that I 
might vindicate Judge Cobb and enter my denial of the alle- 
gation made against him. 

Now recurring to the discussion. Cobb was followed by 
other members pro and con, until the morning of the fourth 
day was reached. Then came John R. Fellows and Bourke 
Cochran to close the discussion for the contestee, and "take 
the House by storm," as the contestee's friends expressed 
it. Fellows, in a most graceful, ornate, beautiful and rhyth- 
mic speech, occupied the floor for an hour. But it was not 
a speech in which either the facts or the law of the case was 
discussed. It delighted the ear and made the blood tingle, 



somk notable; contested election casks 273 

but it gave no food for thought ; in fact, he admitted he 
had not read the record and had only glanced over the re- 
ports. Still I could see that his eloquence and appeals to 
partisan feeling had made an impression. 

Then came Bourke Cochran, powerful in physique, strong 
in voice, flowing in words, eloquent in language, graceful 
in gesture, and herculean in hurling his mighty bolts of in- 
vective. For an hour he criticised the Democratic members 
of the Committee who had voted to seat a Republican, 
lashed and thrashed me with his tongue for making a report 
unseating a Democrat, and appealed to Democrats to stand 
by the contestee and keep him in his seat. He closed amid 
great applause, and took his seat with a look of supreme 
satisfaction upon his face. 

His speech had surprised me, first by his attack on Demo- 
cratic committeemen who had the courage of their convic- 
tions, when he had only a short time before made a pilgrim- 
age from New York, after a long absence from his seat, to 
make a speech in favor of a Republican against whom the 
committee had reported, and secondly his severe criticism 
and condemnation of myself, which was nearly personal. 

I rose to reply. Those around me said I was cool and 
self-possessed, but I felt the fire in my brain and the hot 
blood in my veins; I felt the fast heart-beats in my breast 
and the emotions of chagrin and displeasure that filled my 
soul. Still, I concealed all as best I could, and put on the 
appearance of coolness as far as possible. My audience was 
as large and grand as ever before or since filled the Congres- 
sional Hall. The people were packed, jammed and crammed 
in the galleries, and the floor was filled almost to overflow- 
ing. I realized the House was almost under a charm pro- 
duced by the speeches of the two distinguished New York 
representatives, and that I must say something to break the 
charm and get my hearers to think of the substance of the 
speeches and not simply their beauty and eloquence, their 
invective and sarcasm. Fortunately for me, just before I 
arose a story I had heard occurred to me and I concluded to 
try it in opening mv reply to Cochran. 
18 



274 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

Addressing the chair I said : 

"I hope we shall now have a calm after the equinoctial 
storm which has just swept over the House, uprooting rea- 
son, dethroning thought, and tearing into tatters the great 
fundamental principle that the high privilege of a seat on 
this floor should be determined by the law and the facts, 
and not by partisan bias and prejudice. 

"The distinguished gentleman from New York who has 
just addressed the House, with much apparent satisfaction 
to himself, reminds me of the story of a fellow who was 
traveling through a very sparsely settled section of the 
West, when night overtook him in a thick forest, a great 
storm came up, the heavens were as black as ink, the dark- 
ness was as dense as Erebus ; the thunder peals were deafen- 
ing and terrifying, and he could only see his way by an oc- 
casional flash of lightning. He was frightened almost to 
death. Directly a terrible clap of thunder came, and the 
fellow dropped to his knees, and looking up into the black 
clouds above he exclaimed, 'O Good and Merciful God! if 
it makes no difference to your Holy Majesty, I would like 
to have more light and not so much noise.' " 

Never did a story take better. It acted like magic. In an 
instant the House and galleries caught the point, and they 
broke out with thundering applause, and in spite of the 
Speaker's gavel it continued, dying down and breaking out 
repeatedly for some minutes; shouts and laughter came 
from all quarters. The spell was broken, and the hearers 
were brought to think, and to mentally ask themselves the 
question, "What did he say about the case? Wasn't it all 
noise and no light?" It is with reluctance that I have re- 
ferred to this occurrence, but the story has been so often 
published, and I have been asked and even written to about 
it so frequently, that I put it in these reminiscences. I do 
not do it in disparagement of Mr. Cochran, for I regard 
him as an exceedingly able and brainy man, but in this in- 
stance I think he made a mistake and presumed too much 
upon his oratorical powers. His speech was strong of its 
kind, but it was not the kind the occasion demanded. He 



SOME NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASES 2J5 

was not informed as to the facts, and really made little ref- 
erence to them. 

This was the most successful hit of my life, and I have 
always thanked my stars for directing my mind to the story. 

During my four hours' speech I was repeatedly inter- 
rupted and plied with questions, but it was usually by gen- 
tlemen who knew nothing of the facts, while I necessarily 
knew them all, and I had no difficulty in answering those 
who really wanted information, and in answering others 
according to their folly. 

In the heat of my argument I made a retort to an inter- 
ruption of a gentleman who I thought was endeavoring to 
confuse or embarrass me in my remarks, which I have al- 
ways regretted. While it was entirely within parliamentary 
bounds, there was too much pepper in it. I shall not repeat 
it here, and I only refer to it to express my regret. The 
gentleman had been my friend, and is now, I am happy to 
say — our friendly relations having been restored by my 
apology, which I think is always the manly thing to do 
when you find you have improperly, unnecessarily, or hastily 
given offense. 

Elections have no doubt in many instances been carried 
by fraud, tricks and devices of different kinds. They have 
been carried by stuffing ballot-boxes, by false counting, by 
the reception of illegal votes and the refusal of legal votes; 
but the plan adopted by old John Robinson, of circus fame, 
has never had its counterpart, and it was a fair and square 
deal between him and the voters. 

The Fourth Alabama district had a large majority of 
colored voters, still the Democrats concluded to make an 
effort to carry it. They made a nomination ; the Republi- 
cans had a split in their convention, resulting in two Re- 
publican candidates; so there was a triangular fight, one 
Democrat and two Republicans. Near the close of the can- 
vass John Robinson's circus appeared in several of the coun- 
ties of the district. The old fellow was "a Democrat from 
way back," as he expressed it, so he conceived the idea that 
he might aid the Democrats. 



276 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

He made inquiry as to the law on the subject of voting. 
He was told that in order to vote a man must register and 
receive his registration certificate, and present this certificate 
at the polls ; that without this paper he could not vote. The 
old man said nothing, but he acted instantly. He directed 
his agents to let the colored voters know that they could 
see his show without paying any money — all he would re- 
quire would be the delivery of their registration certificates 
to his agents at the door of the tent. The news spread like 
wildfire, and from far and near the colored voters flocked to 
the show at every place the tents were pitched, with their 
registration certificates in their pockets, and when the door 
was opened in they rushed, handing their certificates, in- 
stead of circus tickets, to the doorkeepers. They saw the 
show without money, but when the day of election came 
they found they had voluntarily and of their own accord, 
though ignorantly of course, disfranchised themselves. 
Esau sold his birthright for a mess of pottage; they had 
sold their muniment of suffrage to see the circus. 

Duplicate certificates could not be issued, for under the 
law a duplicate could only be given when the original had 
been lost or mislaid. These certificates had neither been lost 
nor mislaid. 

The John Robinson plan proved to be most effective ; the 
Democratic candidate was elected, and though a contest was 
made, he held his seat. 

There is another contested election case to which I shall 
refer, and then pass to some other subject. 

It is the case of Edmund Waddill versus George D. Wise, 
from the Third, or Richmond, District of Virginia. Wise, 
the sitting member, was a Democrat, and had served several 
terms; Waddill, the contestant, was a Republican. Both 
had hosts of personal friends and both stood high in the 
esteem of their respective parties. The contest was waged 
principally upon the ground that many Republican voters 
were prevented from casting their ballots by the unwar- 
ranted dilatory tactics of the Democratic officials and chal- 
lengers. 



SOME NOTABLE CONTESTED ELECTION CASES JJ~ 

In the city of Richmond the colored vote was very large in 
a particular ward, and many of these colored voters bore il- 
lustrious names. There were hosts of George Washington s, 
Thomas Jeffersons, James Madisons, James Monroes, An- 
drew Jacksons, Patrick Henrys, John Tylers, Henry Clays. 
Benjamin Harrisons, and scores of others in which a few 
names would cover them all. When George Washington, 
for instance, would appear at the polling place his vote 
would be challenged and much time consumed in ascertain- 
ing to the satisfaction of the election officers what George 
Washington he was, and numerous questions propounded as 
to his residence, place and time of birth, his occupation, for 
whom he had worked, and then his right to vote would be 
discussed at length, and thus frequently a half hour or lon- 
ger would be consumed before his ballot would be deposited. 
In this way the sun set upon the heads of many a colored 
voter who had for hours been standing in line with his un- 
cast ballot in hand. The Democrats justified their course 
upon the ground that the colored voter was hard to identify, 
and that it was necessary to prevent fraudulent voting and 
have a fair election. 

The members of the committee divided on party lines in 
the contest, but the majority being Republicans, a report 
favoring the seating of the contestant was presented to the 
House, followed by a minority report finding that the con- 
testee had been duly elected and was entitled to the seat. 
The majority report was adopted and the contestant seated. 
This case was fought with spirit on both sides. 

Fifteen years have passed since this contest. Both of the 
parties to it are still living in Richmond, the storm-center 
of their battle of ballots; passion has cooled; party ran- 
cor has passed away; angry disputes are no longer heard: 
opprobrious political epithets no longer offend. 

The contestant and contestee, while still differing on par- 
ty lines, are friends. The former, Honorable Edmund Wad- 
dill, fills, and has filled for years, the position of United 
States District Judge of the Eastern District of Virginia. 
with such ability, fairness, fearlessness, urbanity, and kind- 



278 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

ness as to draw to him, not only the respect and confidence, 
but the esteem and love of the entire bar of his district. The 
contestee is prosecuting his profession as a lawyer with abil- 
ity and success, while he counts his friends all around him 
by the thousands. As a representative of the Richmond 
district in Congress, he was as 

"True as the needle to the pole, 
Or the dial to the sun." 

No district was ever more faithfully represented than was 
the Third Congressional district of Virginia by him. I 
speak whereof I know. 



CHAPTER VIII 

INCIDENTS OF THE ElFTY-SECOND CONGRESS. 

The Occasion of a Long "Deadlock"— The Direct Tax Bill— The French 
Spoliation Claims— William S. Holman, the '"Watch-dog of the 
Treasury"— Pension Bills— The Numher of United States Pensioners 
Double the Number of Confederate Soldiers on the Rolls During 
the War— The "Dependent Pension Bill"— Vetoed by President 
Cleveland. 

The longest "deadlock" during my Congressional service, 
except in the Langston-Venable contested election case, was 
in the Fifty-second Congress, when the bill known as "The 
Direct Tax Bill" was under consideration. 

Under Section 8 of Article I of the Federal Constitution 
Congress is authorized to lay and collect taxes, but during 
the history of the Government a direct tax, that is, a tax on 
real estate, has been laid but five times — in 1798, 18 13, 18 15. 
1816, and 1 86 1. The last time was during the War between 
the States, when a direct tax of $20,000,000 was levied, to be 
proportionately assessed against all lots of ground with their 
improvements and dwelling houses. 

The Direct Tax Bill to which I have referred provided 
for the refunding of $15,000,000 of the $20,000,000 to the 
persons who paid it if living, if not to their heirs, and where 
neither a person who had paid it nor his heirs could be 
found, the amount due him was to be appropriated by the 
State in which he lived at the time of payment as it might 
deem proper. Many Virginians in certain sections of the 
State had been compelled to pay this tax; my district, by 
reason of the high values of its lands and its proximity to the 
Federal Capital, had paid a larger proportion of Virginia's 
whole. My constituents, or many of them at least, were 
deeply interested in the passage of the bill, and of course I 
was supporting it warmly. The Cotton States Representa- 
tives insisted upon an amendment, providing for the re- 
funding of the cotton tax which had been levied and a large 



280 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

sum collected upon it during the war, as well as the refund- 
ing of the direct tax; this amendment was strenuously op- 
posed by the friends of the bill ; they argued that the cotton 
tax was not paid by the planter, that it was added to the 
price of the product when it was sold to the manufacturer, 
and the manufacturer got it back when he sold the manu- 
factured article to the consumer, and that the consumer, not 
the planter, actually paid the tax; but that the direct tax- 
payer paid the tax out of his own pocket directly into the 
coffers of the Government ; that one bore no analogy to the 
other. 

A filibustering movement against the bill was inaugurated 
under the leadership of William C. Oates, of Alabama, an 
able, bold, and untiring fighter, and for several days and 
nights the House was in continuous session. Finally an ad- 
journment was had to give the members an opportunity to 
get a night's rest; a Democratic caucus was held, and after 
much discussion it was agreed that the bill should go over to 
the next or short session, to be called up a day fixed in the 
caucus resolution, discussed for a given time, and then a 
vote taken without dilatory motions. 

In the next session the caucus resolution was carried out, 
and the bill passed the House without amendment, was sent 
to the Senate, where it was passed also, and was signed by 
the President and became a law on the 2d of March, 1901. 
Virginia's proportion of the $15,000,000, amounting to a 
large sum, was turned over to the Governor, and under his 
directions disbursed to the various persons who had paid 
this tax, or to their heirs, as far as claims were made, and 
then the residue, for which there were no claimants, was by 
act of the legislature distributed equitably among the coun- 
ties, where the claimants who could not be found had lived, 
and the fund was used by these counties for public road pur- 
poses. 

Far back in the history of this government, about 1800, 
in fact, American commerce became a prey to French 
cruisers. 



INCIDENTS OF THE EIFTY-SECOND CONGR] 28] 

The United States asserted a claim against France for 
her citizens who had suffered by the wrongful seizure of 
their vessels and cargoes on the high seas. France pre- 
sented a counter-claim against the United States as a gov- 
ernment for damages sustained by the French government 
by the failure of the United States to exercise close vigi- 
lance over the belligerent rights and the treaty stipulations 
between the two nations and the warring European powers. 

Ultimately the United States offered to withdraw the 
claim of her citizens against France if France would with- 
draw her claim against the United States. France accepted 
the proposition, and thus our government relieved herself 
of her obligation by surrendering the claims of her citizen. 
In a word, she paid her own debt with the private claims of 
her citizens against France. 

In equity and justice, by her act, she assumed and became 
liable to her citizens whose claims she had used in settling 
her own debt. From that day forward the French Spolia- 
tion Claims were pressed upon the attention of Congress, 
but for decades they were fought and combated, until in 
1885 an act was passed and approved, authorizing the claim- 
ants to apply to the Court of Claims for adjudication of their 
claims. Judgments have been rendered by this court upon 
many of these claims, and appropriations have been made 
to pay them, but always for much less than the claims and 
without interest. But through lapse of time, death of claim- 
ants, and loss of papers and evidence, just claims amount- 
ing to millions will be lost, and this great government will 
profit by her unjustifiable procrastination and delay, and in 
turning a deaf ear for so many weary years to the appeals 
for adjustment and payment. As just stated, no interest 
has been allowed upon the claims which have been paid ; the 
Government never pays interest, except upon her bonds, in 
which the payment of interest is expressly stipulated. In 
this case she used these claims as money to satisfy a claim 
against herself, and then refused for three-quarters of a cen- 
tury or more to settle with the claimants, and when she 



282 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE) SERVICE 

finally settled some, she reduced the claims, and declined to 
pay any interest upon them. 

Among the ablest and most persistent opponents of the 
payment of the French Spoliation Claims was Hon. William 
S. Holman, of Indiana. He had been in Congress contin- 
uously from the Thirty-sixth Congress. 

From study and by absorption he was perhaps the best 
informed representative on the floor upon matters of gen- 
eral public interest that had been before Congress during 
the preceding fifty years. His memory was wonderful, and 
his mind was literally a storehouse of legislative facts and 
events. For years he played the role of "General Objector," 
a necessary role to be assumed by some one in every legisla- 
tive body, and he who plays it well and judiciously in the 
House of Representatives deserves the people's gratitude, 
for he saves the public treasury from the unjust payment 
of many a dollar, particularly toward the close of a session, 
when the rules are set aside and bills are passed under whip 
and spur. 

About the Fiftieth Congress, however, he tired of the bur- 
den and cares of the position of "General Objector," and his 
mantle, worn so long and well, fell upon the shoulders of 
Hon. Constantine B. Kilgore, of Texas, of whom mention 
has been made in another connection. By his vigilance in 
guarding the exchequer of the Government for many years, 
Mr. Holman had been styled the "Watch-dog of the Treas- 
ury," a term, so far as my reading has gone, that was first 
applied, back in the fifties of the last century, to "Honest 
John Letcher," of Virginia, and who was afterwards Gov- 
ernor of his State. 

But there were occasions when Mr. Holman would be 
found, it is said, dropping his role of "General Objector," 
or "Watch-dog of the Treasury," and such an occasion 
would come when a bill was called carrying an appropriation 
for the benefit of Indiana, such as the construction of a 
public building, or for the relief of some citizen of the 
Hoosier State, then he was silent. So one day, when he 
was referred to as the "Watch-dog of the Treasury," some 



INCIDENTS OF THE) FIFTY-SECOND CONGRESS 2&$ 

member replied, "Yes, he has a peculiar characteristic of a 
watch-dog, he barks at everybody except home-folks." 

But William S. Holman was a man of ability, untiring 
energy, and incorruptible character, a fine debater and a 
most stubborn fighter; but like all men, he was not always 
right, and in my humble opinion his judgment in regard 
to the justice and equity of the French Spoliation Claims 
was greatly at fault. 

While he was usually a very sedate man, he had quite a 
vein of humor. A certain gentleman had greatly pleased 
the House with a witty speech, and after that he was con- 
stantly endeavoring to make another hit on that line, until 
he became rather a bore. So one evening he was engaged 
in an attempt to elicit applause by his witticism, but to no 
avail; passing Mr. Holman, who was looking intently at 
the speaker, I said, "What do you think of him?" He re- 
plied, "He reminds me of a little boy who has just found 
out he could spin a top; he is always at it." 

During my entire service in Congress I did not vote 
against a single bill to pension a Federal veteran unless I 
believed it lacked merit, and then I did not hesitate. It was 
my opinion that every government should care for and save 
from penury or want its materially-disabled and dependent 
soldiers, and while every pension bill drew from the people 
of the South millions of dollars, with no return, yet such 
was the fortune of war, and the vanquished must bear with 
patience and composure the burden imposed. 

But Congress was far too lavish in its pension expendi- 
tures, and so many improper pensions were issued that the 
conferring of one could not be taken, even prima facie, as a 
"badge of honor." It was a fact so generally known that a 
large percentage of the pensioners obtained their pensions 
through fraud, favoritism, or political influence and held 
them unworthily, as to cast a suspicion upon all, for there 
was no means of picking out the just from the unjust, or 
separating the worthy from the unworthy. It was also a 
significant fact that the number of United States pensioners 
about doubled the entire number of Confederate soldiers on 



284 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

the Confederate rolls during the four years of war, showing 
that if the pensions were worthily bestowed, the bullets of 
the Confederates did far more havoc in the ranks of the 
Federals than the reports of the Federal generals disclosed 
after the battles, making all due allowance for mistakes and 
haste. While, as I have said, every government should 
grant pensions to its maimed, disabled, and dependent sol- 
diers, it was always a source of supreme pride with me that 
there were so few Confederate soldiers who did not succeed 
in earning a livelihood by their own indomitable spirit and 
superb manhood. They were compelled to rely upon their 
own labor and energy, and they went to work like true men 
with brains and muscles, nerve and determination, and 
from the ashes, wrecks and ruins, devastation and desola- 
tion left by the cruel hand of war their stricken land soon 
began to recuperate and recover, smile and blossom with 
returned prosperity. 

I do not think I am exceeding the bounds of propriety 
when I declare that there were many Northern representa- 
tives, some of them gallant Union veterans, who disapproved 
of the wholesale manner in which pensions were granted, 
but behind every bill was the vote of a soldier and the votes 
of his kinsmen and all pension applicants in a representa- 
tive's district. They constituted potential factors in an elec- 
tion, and to vote against a bill reported by the pension com- 
mittee was to sound the death knell to the representative's 
political aspirations. 

I regarded the "Dependent Pension Bill" in its provisions 
as radically wrong in principle. It gave, for instance, to 
every dependent father of a soldier killed in battle the right 
to a pension regardless of circumstances. This bill was op- 
posed upon the floor of Congress by General Edward S. 
Bragg, of Wisconsin, who commanded in the Federal Army 
the brigade known as the "Iron Brigade," which stood in 
the estimation of the Union army of the West very much 
as the "Stonewall Brigade" was held in the estimation of 
the Confederate armies. With a boldness and fearlessness 
that was admirable, this distinguished Union general, with 



INCIDENTS OF THE FIFTY-SECOND CONGR] 283 

his splendid eye sparkling with animation, and a voice that 
could be heard distinctly in the most remote part of the 
chamber, rained a perfect torrent of objections upon the in- 
defensible provisions of the bill. 

He referred to a recreant husband and father who had de- 
serted his wife and baby-boy in its swaddlings. The wife 
struggled on for years and died ; the boy grew up, and when 
the war came on entered the Union Army and was killed. 
This father was never heard of until the Dependent Pen- 
sion Bill was offered, then he disclosed his place of residence, 
and began to gather evidence that he was the father of the 
dead young soldier, and was eagerly waiting to file his ap- 
plication for a pension as the dependent father of the boy 
he had deserted before the child could lisp his miserable 
name. And," said the General, "he will get his pension 
under this bill ; he is simply waiting with mouth open for its 
passage." 

But strong as was the opposition, the bill passed the 
House and then the Senate, but it met its death at the hands 
of President Cleveland, by an able, bold, and unanswerable 
veto message. By no act during his incumbency did Presi- 
dent Cleveland display the courage of his convictions more 
conspicuously than in putting the stamp of his disapproval 
upon this bill. He proved himself to be a statesman without 
guile and a patriot without selfishness. 



CHAPTER IX 

THE TARIFF, FREE SIEVER, ETC. 

Protection Discussed Until a Thread-bare Subject— The Morrison Tariff 
Bill the First Measure I Vote for— The South's Obligation to 
Mr. Randall— "Tariff for Revenue Only" the Slogan of the Demo- 
cratic Party in 1885— The Most Notable Speeches on the Subject of 
the Tariff— The Rise of the Silver Question— The Silverites Become 
Aggressive After the Repeal of the Purchase Clause in 1893— Mr. 
Bryan's Intention to Stump Virginia Against me— The "Danville 
Riot" of 1885— Its Discussion in Congress— The Internal Revenue 
Tax— "Moonshiners." 

From the day I entered Congress until I left it, a period 
of twelve years, the discussion of protection, free trade, 
tariff for revenue and reciprocity never ceased, except for 
brief periods. If ever subjects were threshed thread-bare, 
these were, and if this country is not fully conversant with 
them it surely is not the fault of the members of Congress 
from 1882 to 1894. The speeches would fill, if gathered to- 
gether, very many volumes of the Congressional Record, 
and they were spread in pamphlet form over the country as 
thick as the leaves of autumn. 

They were as variant in style as the glasses of a kaleido- 
scope in colors. Some were strong and logical, some force- 
ful and cogent, some eloquent and beautiful, some frothy 
and vapory, and some humorous and witty. The members, 
with few exceptions, felt it was incumbent upon them to put 
their views on record, and if they were not speakers, or 
failed to secure recognition and time, they would ask "leave 
to print," and their views would be put in cold type in the 
Congressional Record. Certain night sessions were set 
apart for tariff speeches only, and many a good speech was 
made to empty seats on the floor, but generally to a pretty 
full gallery. 

There is no legislative subject that attracts the attention 
of the people more than the subject of taxation. Touch the 



THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 287 

pocket nerve of a man and you are mighty apt to stir and 
arouse his sensibilities. 

Of course, we heard all about the origin of the word tar- 
iff; that it had been handed down by tradition, as having 
originated from the custom of the Moorish chiefs in de- 
manding tribute from all vessels that passed through the 
straits of Gibraltar at or near the town of Tarifa, in Spain. 
We were told of the tariff of the Greeks and Romans, and 
the early English tariffs of nearly a thousand years ago and 
the later tariffs of Great Britain, and of their abolition about 
the middle of the last century. We were also told of the 
various tariff measures of the United States. The tariff of 
eight per cent on imports by the first Congress, which Wash- 
ington favored, but which was raised somewhat to satisfy 
Virginia; the tariff of 1816 of about twenty-three per cent 
upon certain manufactured articles, to which the Southern 
States objected; of the first attempt in 1828 to levy a pro- 
tective tariff of forty-one per cent and the opposition raised 
to it by the States of the South, and the compromise that fol- 
lowed; of the tariff for protection of 1842, which was ve- 
toed by President Tyler; the tariff for revenue of 1846, 
the average being twenty-five per cent ; the tariff still for 
revenue of 1857 of twenty per cent; the Morrill Tariff Act 
of 1861, containing an assertion of the right to levy customs 
duties for protection and not revenue only ; and we were car- 
ried through all the vibrations and changes of rates during 
the War between the States, or "The War of the Rebellion." 
as some of our Republican brethren termed the struggle. 
Every member after a while was a walking encyclopedia of 
tariff statistics and information, if he had anything like a 
retentive memory. 

The Morrison Tariff Bill of the Forty-eighth Congress 
provided for a general horizontal cut of import duties. Tt 
was opposed by several strong Democratic members, among 
them Hon. Samuel J. Randall, of Pennsylvania, as grand a 
man in all the attributes of manhood as ever graced the 
Congressional Halls. He was a fine parliamentarian, a mosl 
direct and effective speaker, a leader of great astuteness and 



288 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

force, cool under all circumstances, and fought always to 
the last ditch. He represented a district in which the pro- 
tection sentiment was predominant, and he did not believe 
the question of tariff should be made a party issue by the 
Democrats. 

He contested every inch of ground, and only yielded when 
the bill was passed. But while Mr. Randall did not agree 
with his party on this issue, in all other party matters he 
was as straight-laced as the most orthodox, and to gain an 
advantage in this struggle over the Morrison Bill he could 
not be induced to delay action upon my contested election 
case. On the day before the vote was to be taken on the 
bill my case was called for consideration, and although he 
knew that if seated, as I certainly would be, I would cast 
my vote for the bill, he refused to interfere, saying that I 
was entitled to the seat for which I was contesting, that I 
had already been kept out of it too long, and that he would 
vote to seat me, even if I could vote a dozen times for the 
bill. 

T was seated, and on the next day cast my vote for the 
Morrison Bill, but with deep regrets that my first vote 
should be against the position of him to whom the South 
owed a debt of gratitude she could never pay. And just 
here, though a little out of place at this point, I will explain 
why the South was under an obligation of such magnitude to 
Randall. Only a few Congresses back the South was stirred 
from center to circumference by the determination of the 
Republican party to drive through Congress a "Force Bill," 
placing her Federal elections under Federal control, which 
meant negro and carpetbagger domination, and Federal bay- 
onets at the polls. In this never-to-be-forgotten struggle on 
the floor this iron-jawed and resolute man had fought with 
the strength of a Hercules, the courage of a lion, and the 
fierceness of a tiger, that dangerous and unjust measure, for 
days and nights, until the clock's dial pointed to the mid- 
night hour, the last hour of the session, when the gavel of 
Speaker Blaine fell and he declared that the Congress stood 
adjourned sine die under the Constitution and laws of the 



THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 289 

land. Without sleep or rest for, I think, seventy-two con- 
secutive hours, Randall had remained at his post, with his 
soul swelling with a determination to maintain the sover- 
eignty of the States and the guaranteed rights of the people, 
to protect the ballot-box from interference by Federal sa- 
traps, and the voters from intimidation by the presence of 
Federal bayonets at the polls. This constituted the debt of 
gratitude which was due to Samuel J. Randall by the people 
of the South from Virginia to Texas. 

I beg here to quote from the Congressional Record a 
few sentences of my humble tribute to his memory, when 
his voice was stilled and his heart ceased to throb. I said : 

I have risen in my seat as a Representative of the "Old Common- 
wealth" to testify as best I can with my feeble tongue to the love she 
bore for this great and grand man, and to the anguish of her soul now 
that he has joined the mighty host beyond the shores of Time. I need 
not say Virginia never simulates love; she never feigns sorrow. She 
loved Randall with a devotion that knew no bounds, and her sorrow at 
his death is as genuine as her love was true. * * * 

In Randall she ever found a friend whose hand and heart and soul 
were enlisted in her defense against wrongs and in the vindication of her 
rights. With her Southern sisters, she stood weak and poor, bleeding 
from a hundred wounds, helpless to avert the dangers that threatened, 
powerless to ward the blows which were being aimed at her dearest in- 
terests, her material welfare, her most sacred rights, her civilization, her 
homes, her lares and penates. Almost in despair, almost ready to accept 
what seemed to be the inevitable and to bear with heroic patience the 
yoke which had been made for her neck, as sudden as a flash, as quick 
as a sunbeam, despair gave way to hope, hope sprang into confidence; 
a deliverer in full armor, strong, able and courageous, appeared in the 
arena — Samuel J. Randall, the born leader of men, the born enemy of 
tyranny, the born lover of constitutional freedom had espoused the cause 
of a weak, feeble, bleeding and defenseless people. 

Recurring now to the subject of the tariff I will say that 
the Morrison Bill failed to pass the Senate and the tariff 
laws remained unchanged. It was in this tariff conflict that 
William McKinley laid the corner-stone of the foundation 
of his future luminous fame and brilliant distinction. With 
clearness and without reservation or evasion he proclaimed 
himself a "protectionist," and declared for a tariff high 
enough to protect every American industry. 

19 



29O FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

In 1885 Mr. Cleveland, in his message to the Forty-ninth 
Congress, took high ground on the question of tariff, and 
in that direct style which has marked all his writings, he 
made "Tariff for revenue only" the slogan of his party. He 
insisted that our government "is never better administered, 
and its true spirit is never better observed than when the 
people's taxation for its support is scrupulously limited to 
the actual necessity of expenditure and distributed accord- 
ing to a just and equitable plan." 

In 1887 he devoted his entire message to the Fiftieth Con- 
gress to a discussion of the subject of the tariff, stating that 
for the year ending June 30, 1887, the excess of revenue 
over public expenditure reached the sum of $55,567,849.54. 
He declared that the existing "tariff laws, the vicious, in- 
equitable, and illogical source of unnecessary taxation ought 
to be at once revised and amended ; that these laws, as their 
primary and plain effect, raise the price to consumers of all 
articles imported and subject to duty by precisely the sum 
paid for such duties. Thus the amount of the duty meas- 
ures the tax paid by those who purchase for use these im- 
ported articles." 

The Mills Bill was framed largely in accordance with 
President Cleveland's views; it was passed by the House, 
but failed in the Senate. The Fifty-first Congress passed 
in 1890 an act raising the duties to an average of about 
forty-eight per cent on dutiable goods, and this act was the 
law of the land when my Congressional life ended. To-day 
the Dingley Bill, passed in 1897, is in force, and the rates 
on many articles are the highest ever known in our history. 
But "tariff for revenue" is now recognized as one of the 
staid and fundamental doctrines of the Democratic party, 
and the standing of a man upon this issue is the best possi- 
ble test of his political faith. If he does not stand for a 
"tariff for revenue" he must be a "protectionist," and if a 
protectionist he is necessarily a Republican and not a Demo- 
crat. 

The most notable speeches, in my opinion, made upon the 
question of tariff were those of John G. Carlisle, William 



THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 29 1 

D. Kelley, known as "Pig-iron Kelley," by reason of his 
long connection with the iron industries of Pennsylvania ; 
Roger Q. Mills, William McKinley, William L. Wilson, of 
West Virginia; John Dalzell, of Pennsylvania; S. S. Cox 
(Sunset), of New York, and Benjamin Butterworth, of 
Ohio. A reading of these speeches would be sufficient to 
enable any tyro to understand the subject and to decide for 
himself between "tariff for protection" and "tariff for rev- 
enue." There were, of course, a vast number of other fine 
and instructive speeches delivered, but those I have named 
presented the respective sides of the controversy so strongly 
and forcibly, so clearly and distinctly, as to render the read- 
ing of others unnecessary. 

The free coinage of silver, which has since become so 
prominent an issue, had not fully developed into an issue of 
any great magnitude prior to my retirement from the halls 
of National legislation. In fact I had given it comparatively 
little consideration. I was not a member of the Committee 
on Coinage, Weights and Measures, to which all bills relat- 
ing to the currency were referred. 

Being occupied with the work of my own committees, I 
gave a very small portion of my time to a study of the ques- 
tion which in 1896 and again in 1900, in my opinion, con- 
tributed so largely to the defeat of the Democratic party. 
The chairman of the Committee on Coinage, Weights and 
Measures, Richard P. Bland, was a free silverite and an en- 
thusiastic supporter of the free and unlimited coinage of the 
white metal, during my entire service. He was always 
ready, in season and out of season, to take up the gage of 
battle and strike with all his might for the establishment of 
two standards of value. He was an absolutely honest man. 
and firmly believed that this government alone could put the 
coinage of silver upon the same footing as the coinage of 
gold, and maintain silver at a parity with gold at the ratio 
of fifteen or sixteen to one. 

It was not until 1893 that his views found a lodging place 
in the minds of many members ; then, rather suddenly, free 
silver came to the front in somewhat gorgeous array. In 



292 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

fact the sentiment in its favor seemed to me to have sprung 
up almost in a night ; that in the shortest time, like Jonah's 
gourd, it had grown to immense proportions. 

In 1878 an act was passed by which silver dollars of 412^ 
grains were made legal-tender for all debts, and the Secre- 
tary of the Treasury was authorized to purchase at market 
value and coin not less than $2,000,000 and not more than 
$4,000,000 worth of silver bullion per month. In 1890 the 
law of 1878 was repealed and the Secretary of the Treasury 
was authorized to purchase 4,500,000 ounces of silver per 
month, issuing legal-tender notes in payment, and to coin 
monthly sufficient of the bullion to redeem these notes. In 
1893 the clause in the Act of 1890, authorizing the pur- 
chase of silver, was repealed. 

From the date of this repeal forward, the silverites be- 
came more and more aggressive, culminating finally in the 
memorable free-silver contest of 1896. At no time could 
I bring myself to believe that it was within the power of the 
United States alone to maintain the free and unlimited coin- 
age of silver, and in 1896, and again in 1900, I refused to 
endorse the National Democratic platform or vote for Wil- 
liam Jennings Bryan. In the former election I cast my vote 
for the Palmer and Buckner electors, and in the latter I sim- 
ply cast my ballot for the Democratic candidate for Con- 
gress in my district. It was a great struggle with me to 
cut loose from so many of my party friends, but I believed 
the free coinage of silver would bring confusion and possi- 
bly irretrievable injury to the business interests of the coun- 
try, so I determined not to be swayed by partisan feelings, 
but to withhold my support and vote from the platform and 
candidate adopted and nominated by the party. For my 
course I was condemned by the supporters of the platform 
and ticket, but I found myself in a most respectable minority 
in Virginia, for there were about 54,000 Democrats in the 
State — Democrats of the first water, Democrats who had 
never failed before to vote the State or National Democratic 
ticket — who did not endorse the free-silver platform or sup- 
port William Jennings Bryan, the Nebraska statesman. 



THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 293 

As a rule it is not well to open up old wounds or tear the 
scab from old sores, but when the truth is at stake it should 
be done. 

It has been charged, and repeatedly charged, and so far as 
I have ever heard never denied by Mr. Bryan, that he had 
promised or given the Populists of Virginia to understand, 
or led them to believe, that he would canvass Virginia, or at 
least make speeches in the State, for the Populist nominee 
for Governor, who was a strong silverite, and against the 
Democratic nominee who was opposed to free silver in 1893. 
As I was the nominee of the Democratic party, I deem it 
proper to state the facts as far as I know them. 

In rather the early part of my canvass, perhaps the first 
of October, 1893, I heard in Washington a rumor that Mr. 
Bryan intended to stump Virginia against me. I met him 
directly after the rumor reached me, on the floor of the 
House of Representatives. I told him what I had heard, 
and asked him if it could possibly be true. He hesitated for 
several seconds and said : "Colonel, the way the Democrats 
are doing does not suit me at all. I don't know where I will 
land." I replied : "If you have determined to go into Vir- 
ginia to speak against me, you have already landed; if you 
go, Mr. Bryan, you will surely be met everywhere and you 
will have a cold reception from your kinspeople over there, 
for they are all true Democrats; there is no Populism in 
them." He studied for a few seconds, and then said, "Col- 
onel, I won't go." I replied, "All right." He never denied 
the correctness of the rumor, and his language and manner 
convinced me that the rumor was well founded, and the an- 
ticipation of getting the cold shoulder from his numerous 
Virginia cousins changed his mind. I have given as near as 
possible the language of both of us on the occasion named. 
I have other evidence, part of it hearsay, part circumstantial, 
to sustain the charge. I have always regarded Mr. Bryan 
as Populistic and not Democratic in principle, and that all 
that has induced him to keep himself aligned with the Dem- 
ocratic party was the weakness and waning of the Popu- 
list party. I long since predicted that unless he could domi- 



294 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

nate and control the Democratic party he would leave its 
ranks. He must lead; he will never follow. Caesar said 
"he would rather be the first man in a village than the second 
man in Rome." Time will show how much in this respect 
Bryan is Caesarlike. 

I will simply add that I was reliably informed that the 
Populists confidently expected early in the canvass the aid 
of Jerry Simpson, Lafe Pence, and Kerr, from Kansas, I 
think, and William Jennings Bryan; they all came, except 
the latter. It is singular the Populist leaders' expectations 
were realized in the three instances, and they had no ground 
for expectation in the fourth. If Mr. Bryan was a Demo- 
crat in 1893, from the facts I have stated, and his manner in 
his conversation with me, I am reminded of the story of the 
boy who when told by his teacher that the sun was much 
larger than this world, replied, "Well, Mr. Teacher, I can't 
doubt your word, but if the sun is much larger than this 
world, it has a mighty poor way of showing it." If Mr. 
Bryan was a well-grounded Democrat in 1893 he had "a 
mighty poor way of showing it," and it was very strange 
that all the Populist leaders were loudly proclaiming his en- 
trance as a Populist into Virginia. 

Just as the gubernatorial canvass of 1885 was concluding, 
what was known as the "Danville Riot" occurred. In the 
city of Danville there was a very large colored population, 
and these people had been aroused to a state of recklessness 
and desperation by intemperate, in fact incendiary, utter- 
ances on the hustings by several bitter and vindictive parti- 
san Republican speakers. 

For days prior trouble was brewing; the white people 
realized it; the negroes were insolent and disposed to take 
matters into their own hands ; they bade defiance to the legal 
authorities and to all intents and purposes took possession 
of the city. The white people found their blood boiling; 
their homes and property were in jeopardy; they quietly 
armed themselves and prepared for the conflict which they 
believed was inevitable. It came quickly, and blood ran in 
the streets, but it was soon over; the negroes, though gath- 



THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 295 

ered in immense numbers and in a state of frenzy and mad- 
ness, gave way directly and ran in every direction. 

The whites showed no spirit of vengeance and were guilty 
of no cruel acts. They were far more infuriated against 
the marplots who had poisoned the minds of the negroes 
then they were against the negroes themselves. But these 
sowers of discord and fomentors of strife were far away 
from the scene. They had left the poor deluded negroes to 
their fate. 

The news of this affair flew on electric wings to all cor- 
ners of the State, and many a white man who had taken little 
or perhaps no interest in the gubernatorial contest was early 
at the polls on election day, to declare by his vote his fealty 
to a white man's government in Virginia. This riot con- 
verted Danville from a city of disorder and lawlessness into 
a city of order, law, peace and tranquillity, and so it has re- 
mained to the present day. 

A resolution was offered in the Senate of the United 
States providing for the appointment of a committee to "in- 
vestigate the Danville Riot." It passed, the committee was 
appointed, and the investigation was had. 

On the committee was Senator Zebulon D. Vance, and 
into his hands were confided the interests of Danville, and 
no abler or more faithful champion could have been selected. 
The hearing occurred in a Senate committee-room and was 
long and protracted, and resulted in giving to the country 
the facts, upon which there was a verdict by all fair and just 
people, exonerating the white people of the little city on the 
Dan from blame. 

There was some discussion of the riot on the floor of the 
Senate, but it was listless and spiritless, so much so as to 
draw from North Carolina's distinguished Senator a humor- 
ous remark, for which he was so noted. A Senator was 
speaking of "the atrocious deed," with no life in his voia- 
and no spirit in his speech, when some person in a group 
of perhaps a dozen of us, among the number Senator Vance. 

said, "Senator, does Senator always speak as he is 

speaking now? There is no vim or spirit in him." Vance 



296 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

replied : "That's his style. He is so cold that he could not 
sit by a pretty girl, the hottest day in August, without giving 
her the shivers." 

Senator Vance was a most remarkable man. His counter- 
part has never been born; his equal in many respects has 
never existed. A more winning and captivating speaker be- 
fore the masses has never appeared upon the hustings; he 
could strike the popular pulse faster than any man I have 
ever heard. In logic he was powerful; in humor he was 
unexcelled. His repartee was as quick as lightning; his 
blows were stunning and in fencing with an opponent he 
never left his guard down. He was the attraction of any 
social circle. Virginia mourned his death only a little less 
than North Carolina, whose gubernatorial chair he twice 
filled with honor, and whose name in the Senate of the 
United States he wreathed with garlands. 

For years during my Congressional term the repeal of 
the internal revenue tax on distilled spirits and tobacco was 
earnestly urged. It was contended that it was a tax on the 
product of the soil and a burden upon the farmers. North 
Carolina and Virginia were particularly vigorous in their 
efforts, and their representatives led the fight. The Virginia 
leader was Honorable George C. Cabell, of the Fifth district. 
He was as energetic and faithful a representative as any dis- 
trict could boast of, and these qualities, coupled with his 
ability and his popularity on the floor, made him most po- 
tential in behalf of any measure he advocated. 

We had a strong ally in Samuel J. Randall, who believed in 
striking down internal taxation rather than customs duties. 
Many of the Republicans were opposed to internal revenue 
taxes, but they were afraid to vote to relieve distilled spirits 
and tobacco from taxation. They would have been glad to 
see the Democrats do so, but they were afraid to aid them 
with their votes. The Northern Democrats, generally, con- 
tended that whiskey and tobacco were not necessities, and 
they could not vote to relieve them from taxation while cus- 
toms duties remained on the common necessaries of life. 
The North Carolinians and Virginians, however, continued 



THE TARIFF, FREE SILVER, ETC. 297 

their efforts from session to session, but they never suc- 
ceeded. 

In the two States were many "moonshiners," a term given 
to those who in the fastnesses of the mountains would set 
up stills, generally of the crudest kind, and then secretly 
and quietly, under the light of the moon, distill brandy from 
the apples and peaches grown in the neighborhoods and 
smuggled to the stills. It was usually a small business, but 
there was always a demand for "moonshine brandy," as it 
could be bought at much less than the internal tax upon the 
product. 

But many a "moonshiner" was caught and paid dearly for 
his defiance of the law. The Fifth and Ninth districts were 
the principal abodes of these people, and the representatives 
from these districts had their hands always full with appli- 
cations for pardons. While the officials were rigid, they 
frequently granted pardons, and on various occasions I saw 
the face of the big-hearted Cabell all radiant over the par- 
don he had secured for some poor denizen of the Mountain 
of Hepsedam, as he would express it. He was seemingly as 
happy over his success in relieving the poor and unfortunate 
man as if he had found something of almost priceless value. 

Occasionally a constituent of mine would get into trouble 
by "moonshining" and he would appeal to me to get him re- 
lieved of the meshes of the law. The first petition of the 
kind I received I was directed at the White House to pre- 
sent to the Pardon Clerk in the Department of Justice. 
When I entered the office of the clerk I was very much sur- 
prised to find him an old friend whom I had known from 
my boyhood, and for whom I had cast my first vote while 
in the Confederate Army, for representative in the Confed- 
erate House of Representatives from the lower Shenandoah 
Valley district — Honorable Alexander R. Boteler, of Jeffer- 
son County. I had not seen him for years and was delighted 
to meet him. Prior to the war he had been a candidate 
three times, I think, for the United States Congress, losing 
in his first two contests and winning in his third, and was a 
member when Virginia seceded. He was an orator in its 



298 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

strictest sense, and I can recall now some of his flights 01 
eloquence which thrilled me as a boy. The war had im- 
paired his fortune, and in his old age, though a Democrat, 
he had accepted the appointment as Pardon Clerk from his 
friend and class-mate, Hon. B. H. Brewster, then Attorney- 
General of the United States. As I sat talking with this 
cultured man, whom the people had loved and highly hon- 
ored, I could not help thinking of the vicissitudes of life. 
When I took his hand on my departure I thought I saw a 
quiver of the lips; I thought I could see in his face that his 
mind was running back to the days when multitudes hung 
upon his flowing words and did him homage. 

In a few days he wrote me that the case of my constituent 
had been "briefed." I sent for the papers and with them I 
went to the White House and succeeded in obtaining a par- 
don for my "moonshiner" constituent. 



CHAPTER X 

THE FORCE BILE — THE NAVY — PATRONAGE. 

The Force Bill Again — A Menace to the South — Credit Due to Senators 
Gorman and Stewart for its Defeat — The Naval Question — The 
Turreted Ironclad and Monitor the Creations of Necessity — Mr. 
Whitney the Pioneer of the New Navy — Hon. Hilary A. Herbert's 
Great Service in its Behalf — The Strength of the Present Navy — 
An Occurrence During the Discussion of Naval Appropriations — 
"Private" John Allen's Stinging Rebuke — The Question of 
Patronage a Perplexing One — To the Victors Belong the Spoils. 

The South was greatly alarmed in the Fifty-first Con- 
gress over the prospect of the passage of a Force Bill, or 
bill to regulate and control Federal elections in the Southern 
States. President Harrison in his first Message to Con- 
gress, December 3d, 1889, recommended strongly the pass- 
age of such a measure. He declared "that in many parts 
of our country where the colored population is large the 
people of that race are by various devices deprived of any 
effective exercise of their political rights and of many of 
their civil rights. The wrong does not expend itself upon 
those whose rights are suppressed. Every constituency is 
wronged." He earnestly invoked the attention of Congress 
to the consideration of such measures as would insure to the 
colored voters the free exercise of the right of suffrage and 
every other civil right under the Constitution. He claimed 
that the Federal Government could take the whole direction 
and control of the election of members of the House of Rep- 
resentatives into its own hands. He insisted that the colored 
man should be protected by Federal legislation, even as a 
traveler upon interstate railways. 

The message was regarded by the Southern members as 
recommending that the Federal elections in their States 
should be taken away from their own State election officials 
and put under the management, direction, and control of 
Federal officials, supported by Federal troops; and it was 



300 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

regarded by the Democratic party as in opposition to the 
sovereign rights of the States to conduct their own elections 
by their own election officials, free from the presence of 
Federal bayonets. 

The Fifty-first Congress was Republican and the message 
exerted a strong influence upon even the most conserva- 
tive members of the party, and a "Force Bill" was finally 
introduced, and under the new rules of the House, framed, 
as Speaker Reed declared, "so the House could do business," 
was ultimately passed, but it failed in the Senate, through 
dilatory tactics resorted to by the Democratic Senators. 
Then the Southern people breathed easier. The next two 
Houses were Democratic, and of course no "Force Bill" was 
introduced in either, and since the Republicans returned to 
power no such measure has ever been seriously suggested so 
far as I have heard ; and now the sentiment and conditions 
have so changed that this menace to the South's rights, 
peace, and happiness no longer exists in the most remote 
degree. 

For the defeat of the measure in the Senate the credit is 
due more to Senator Gorman, of Maryland, and Senator 
Stewart, of Nevada, than to any other two or more Sena- 
tors. The tact and skill of Senator Gorman was superb, 
and the part played by Senator Stewart was masterly. To 
them the South should indeed be grateful. 

As a party the Democrats were opposed to a strong Navy. 
which necessarily meant heavy expenditure of money. The 
Republicans were very much like the Democrats. The coun- 
try was at peace and no foreign complications were antici- 
pated. This was the condition when President Cleveland 
was inaugurated in 1885, and it continued for several years. 

Our Navy had always been weak, and yet American sail- 
ors had scored victories and achieved glory and showed 
their prowess whenever they had been pitted against a for- 
eign foe. In 1797, fearing war with France, Congress au- 
thorized the construction of the Constitution, United States, 
and Constellation, and the purchase of a limited number of 
other vessels. When the War of 18 12 broke out our vessels 



THE FORCE BILL — THE NAVY — PATRONAGE 3OI 

did not exceed twenty, of them only three first-class frigates 
— the Constitution, the President, and the United States; 
England had eight hundred and thirty. With what pride 
we recall the achievements of America's little Navy in that 
war. 

In 1819 our Navy was largely increased, and a resolution 
was passed directing the naming of the ships of the line after 
the States, frigates after the rivers, and sloops of war after 
the cities and towns of our country, and the whole Navy 
was divided into four squadrons. 

In the Mexican War our Navy blockaded Vera Cruz and 
forced the port of San Juan de Alloa into submission, and 
seized Monterey and Los Angeles. When the War between 
the States commenced the Union Navy consisted of forty 
vessels, but they proved worthless with their wooden con- 
struction when under the fire of the modern long-rance and 
heavy-calibre guns, and in combating such vessels as the 
iron-clad Virginia, whose record shines on the brightest 
pages of naval warfare. 

The turretted ironclad and monitor sprang from Union 
necessities. Southern ports had to be blockaded and new 
and stronger vessels had to be constructed to face the fire 
of modern guns and cope with vessels like the Virginia. 
The rapidity with which improved vessels were built and 
put afloat was marvelous. The Union Navy grew from 
forty vessels of inferior order at the commencement of hos- 
tilities to over six hundred vessels, seventy-five of them 
ironclads, when the Confederacy fell from exhaustion in re- 
sources and men. 

This rapid preparation of a navy when the necessities of 
the Civil War demanded it was used as an argument against 
large naval appropriations, but when analyzed it was no ar- 
gument at all. The South had no navy with which to carry 
on an offensive warfare. If the United States had been en- 
gaged with a real naval power her ports would have been 
blockaded, her navy-yards destroyed, and her seacoast cities 
and towns battered into ruins before she could have started 
to construct a navv. 



302 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

But while Congress was allowing the matter of our naval 
defenses to drift along in a most careless manner, the Demo- 
cratic Secretary of the Navy, Hon. William C. Whitney, in 
1885 realized the importance of strengthening the Navy, 
and he began quietly to strain every nerve and avail himself 
of every means at his command to that end. About the 
close of his term the sentiment in regard to naval appro- 
priations changed in great measure; the naval contingent, 
composed of a few Democrats and a few Republicans, were 
gladdened by many accessions to their ranks, and they be- 
came bolder and more aggressive in their fight. Finally, 
when President Cleveland's second term was ushered in he 
named Hon. Hilary A. Herbert as Secretary of the Navy, 
and in him the Navy had a strong, fast, and untiring friend. 
He threw himself forward boldly as an advocate of a larger 
and improved navy, and during his term great strides were 
made in preparing this country for aggression and defense 
on the seas. This was not done too soon, as subsequent 
events proved. Herbert improved the personnel of the sail- 
ors — the men behind the guns; he required much target- 
practice, and the marksmanship of our men in Dewey's im- 
mortal feat, and Sampson's or Schley's achievement off San- 
tiago attest the wisdom of Herbert's administration of the 
affairs of his high office. 

The American Navy now consists of about two hundred 
and sixty vessels of all kinds; she has battleships of the 
first and second classes, first-rate armored cruisers, first and 
second-rate protected cruisers, gunboats, harbor-defense 
rams, dispatch-boats, dynamite cruisers, torpedo boats, tugs, 
receiving and sailing vessels. She has perhaps one hundred 
and seventy-five effective fighting vessels. But her Navy is 
but an infant in size in comparison with many of the navies 
of the world, and it seems to me that every American pa- 
triot should wish to see his country the mistress of the seas, 
not as a mere matter of National pride, but as an assurance 
of National safety, peace, and tranquillity. On land we can 
defy the combined powers ; let us be able to defend our sea 



the force; bill — the navy — patronage 303 

coast, and wage an aggressive war in any part of the globe, 
when our rights require it or our honor demands it. 

With the patriotism, martial pride, and esprit de corps of 
our people, and the inspiring spirit of our women ; with the 
millions who would spring to their guns at the first tap of 
the drum or first bugle blast ; with our facilities for moving 
and mobilizing armies and our unlimited resources, no army 
that could be organized could penetrate our country by land 
to do us any material harm. Any foe would be doomed the 
moment it got beyond the protection of its men-of-war, and 
would be welcomed to a hospitable grave. 

We may retrench in army expenses, for millions of men 
for land defense could be raised as fast as their names could 
be enrolled, from every section, for there are no geograph- 
ical lines of patriotism now ; but let us have no parsimony or 
cheese paring in our naval appropriations. God grant we 
may live in peace with all nations, but let us be prepared for 
any emergency. War is horrible, and should be undertaken 
as the last resort. It is at best demoralizing; it leaves an 
army of cripples and an army of widows and orphans ; it 
destroys homes and firesides and fills a land with sorrow 
and mourning. A giant navy will almost surely avert these 
evils. Let us have it. 

In connection with the discussion on the floor of Congress 
of one of the naval appropriation bills there was an occur- 
rence which will here bear relating. 

A Northern Republican member, whose name I shall 
withhold, as he has gone to that bourne from whence no 
traveler returns, was socially a most agreeable gentleman, 
but a most extreme and violent partisan. In his advocacy 
of a bill on a particular occasion relating to naval expendi- 
tures he opened the phials of his wrath upon the Southern 
members, charging them with disloyalty, and denouncing 
them as rebels. It was a speech characteristic of the man. 

He was instantly replied to by Hon. John Allen, of Miss- 
issippi, or "Private" John Allen, as he styled himself. 

He referred to the fact that he had been a Confederate 



304 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

soldier, entering the Army when he was quite young, and 
serving until Johnston surrendered. 

"It was," said he, "perhaps a youthful indiscretion in me, 
still I stuck at it until all was lost. Then a comrade and I 
started home, and after traveling some days it occurred to 
us that we were not doing right; that home was not the 
place for us while there was an armed Confederate force in 
the field, and we should go to Kirby Smith, west of the 
Mississippi. Still we had a hankering for home. Leisurely 
we wended our way, debating what to do. Finally we saw 
an old countryman just ahead of us, sitting on a log in his 
shirt sleeves, with one gallows across his left shoulder and 
an old straw hat partly concealing his auburn locks. 

"We approached him, submitted our trouble to him, and 
asked his advice. The old fellow expressed the opinion that 
the war was over and advised us to go home, get to work, 
and do the best we could. He then said : 'Boys, this here 
war has been a awful war. Think of the blood that's been 
spilt, and the men that's been kilt, and the money that's been 
spent. It's jist awful. But, boys, do you know what trou- 
bles me more'n all them things? It's jist this, that arter a 
while some d — d fools will be crying rebels at us.' The 
House rang with laughter ; the member who had been roll- 
ing the word "rebel" around his tongue like a sweet morsel 
stood with a scowl on his handsome face. Allen's features 
never changed; he never smiled, but as soon as order was 
restored he said : "Mr. Speaker, I have simply related this 
circumstance so fixed in my memory. I make no applica- 
tion of it. I have nothing more to say." 

The rebuke was most telling, and made the use of the 
word "rebel" far less frequent by the member than it had 
previously been during his long service. 

There is nothing more perplexing or troublesome in offi- 
cial life than the power to bestow political favors or appoint 
to positions, commonly called patronage. 

Patronage is an element of weakness in a party, and equal- 
ly so in a candidate. In every election the hope of reward 
for party service is the incentive to many to exert them- 



THE FORCE BILE THE NAVY — PATRONAGE 3O5 

selves for a party or a candidate. These men give their 
support for what they expect or hope to get out of it. Prin- 
ciples rest lightly on their shoulders; they change their 
faith as quickly as a chameleon changes its colors, when to 
do so is to their personal advantage. They stand high in 
their own estimation ; their influence, they assert, is most 
valuable; they know all the tricks, short cuts, ways and 
means of securing votes; they are adepts in the fine art of 
politics ; they know it all ; their services are absolutely es- 
sential to success. Every public man is familiar with this 
class, and they are difficult to deal with, hold them to you 
and preserve your own self-respect. If the party or candi- 
date is victorious, and there is any patronage to bestow, they 
buzz around the appointing power like bees around their 
hive. If there are six places to give out there will be many 
times that number of applicants, and when they are be- 
stowed there are six self-satisfied fellows with no thanks, 
each feeling that he is not under any obligations, that he 
won on his merits, got nothing but what he deserved ; on 
the other hand there will be treble the number of disgruntled 
fellows, each declaring he had been treated badly, deceived, 
betrayed, and heaping their anathemas upon the party or 
upon him who is the object of their wrath. 

There is another class who are guided in their party af- 
filiations by principles, and fight for their ascendency be- 
cause they believe them to be right, and no failure to receive 
political favor or preferment can afreet their earnestness or 
fidelity. They are high men, yet in many instances if they 
fail to receive the recognition which they feel they deserve 
at the hands of him in whom the power of appointment is 
vested, they become disgruntled, and from that day forward, 
though loyal to their party they are at enmity with the offi- 
cial who did not recognize their claims over those of many 
who occupied as elevated a plane as themselves ; in rare 
instances they become luke-warm toward the party, and 
while they will vote the party ticket, they will not exert 
themselves in its behalf. 
20 



306 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

But there is still another class, and they constitute the 
mainstay of a party, who are party men at all hazards, and 
no failure to receive favors, or to reach the acme of their 
ambition, or to secure party recognition ever daunts them or 
cools their ardor. 

Now I believe that party success should carry with it all 
reasonable party favors; that " to the victors belong the 
spoils," using the term in its proper sense. In a politicial 
battle, as well as in a battle of arms, the victors should have 
the positions and offices of the vanquished, just as a victor- 
ious army should have the stores and supplies of its defeated 
foe, with this difference, that the successful political party 
should first consider the welfare of the Government before 
seizing the positions and offices for party use. There are 
many positions in the departments at Washington whose in- 
cumbents should not be removed, whether they have affili- 
ated with the incoming party or not. Their qualifications 
have been acquired through years of service, and the inter- 
ests of the whole people should not be imperilled by their 
displacement. But where removal can be safely made, then 
I think they should be filled by men in sympathy with the 
party in power and who aided in bringing it victory. 

I am an advocate of the Civil Service Rules to the extent 
I have stated, but no further. Care should be taken to se- 
cure competency, and the effort should be confined to the 
ranks of the dominant party ; but never remove a competent 
man to put an incompetent man in, I care not which party is 
in power. 



CHAPTER XI 

CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY SOME INSTANCES. 

The Varied Attainments of Members — S. S. Cox the most Versatile 
man with whom I served — J. Randolph Tucker a Close Second — 
"Tim" Tarsney and John Allen Swap Anecdotes — John S. Barbour 
and D. B. Culberson — Isador Raynor — Benjamin Butterworth — 
David B. Henderson — Joseph D. Sayers — John Dalzell — Charles H. 
Grosvenor — Henry G. Turner — James D. Richardson — William P. 
Hepburn — Charles E. Hooker — Sereno Payne — Daniel N. Lockwood 
and John DeWitt Warner — Joseph Wheeler — John A. Hemphill — A 
"Rough Diamond"— W. H. F. Lee— W. L. Wilson— Henry St. 
George Tucker — William A. Jones — Paul C. Edmunds — Connally F. 
Trigg — Thomas Croxton — Edward C. Venable — Posey G. Lester — 
Joseph D. Brady — James F. Epes — George E. Bowden — James W. 
Marshall — Claude A. Swanson — John G. Carlisle — What I Think 
of Freedom of Speech. 

In my opinion we can justly claim that the Congress of 
the United States is the ablest parliamentary or law-making 
body in the world. The abilities of its members are as di- 
verse as possible; they run in every channel. 

The constitutional lawyer, the common law and statutory 
lawyer, the commercial lawyer, the mining lawyer, the bank 
lawyer, the railroad lawyer, the real estate lawyer, the cor- 
poration lawyer, the criminal lawyer, the maritime lawyer, 
the country practitioner of medicine and surgery and the 
specialist in every branch of materia medica and surgery ; 
presidents and other officials of corporations, manufacturers 
and miners, timber dealers, seafaring men, mercantile men, 
agriculturists, financiers, college professors and scientists, 
men of every avocation and calling in this land, whose inter- 
ests are as various as sea-shore shells, are found upon the 
floor of Congress. What a store-house of general knowl- 
edge is the Congress of the United States, all its memb 
coming from the people, each representing the sentiments 
and views of his particular constituency? In that body oi 
such diversified knowledge will always be found men 1: 



308 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

armed and equipped upon a moment's notice to discuss any 
subject in the mighty realm of thought. 

Most of them, of course, have their specialties ; some their 
"hobbies" ; some are broader and more liberal than others ; 
some more versatile than others; but as a rule they are 
strong and able men, and there is something in each that has 
attracted his people to him and elevated him above the plane 
of his fellows. The accidental man is not often seen. 

The most versatile man with whom I served was surely 
Samuel S. Cox, of New York. He was always ready; he 
could speak with credit upon any general subject without a 
moment's preparation, and he could make his speech so as to 
accord with the demands of the occasion or of his party. 

He could be logical, invective, pathetic or humorous, or 
he could combine all in a single speech. He could roll off 
figures and statistics with accuracy at will. His command 
of language was wonderful ; he never lacked for a word to 
clearly express an idea. He never showed temper. His 
face always beamed with pleasantry and cheerfulness. He 
lived in the sunshine and never in the shadows of life. He 
was quick at repartee, and his arrow usually hit the mark, 
but never was it pointed with malice. 

No person would even attempt to approximate the num- 
ber who have read his book, "Why we Laugh," with exquis- 
ite delight. In telling us why we laugh, he keeps us laugh- 
ing. 

Next to Samuel S. Cox in versatility, and a close match 
for him, was J. Randolph Tucker, of Virginia, of whom I 
spoke briefly in the early part of these reminiscences. Mr. 
Tucker was recognized as an authority on constitutional 
law ; besides he was thoroughly equipped in all branches of 
the law. He was peculiarly gifted in the art of jury prac- 
tise. He was a fine judge of human nature, and could read 
with almost unerring certainty the character, idiosyncrasies, 
whims and caprices of men. 

His amiability, courtesy, and kindness toward all made 
him universally popular in the House of Representatives, 
and every member was personally fond of him, while his 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY SOME INSTANCES 3OO, 

profound legal learning commanded for him the respect 
and admiration of all, regardless of political faith. 

Like Mr. Cox, he was brimful of humor and pathos, and 
I have seen him on the hustings have his audience alternat- 
ing all through his speech between laughter and tears, mer- 
riment and thoughtfulness. Perfect order prevailed on the 
floor of the House of Representatives whenever he spoke, 
except when it rang with laughter or echoed with applause. 

Of John Allen, of Mississippi, as a humorist, I need 
scarcely write. His reputation is coextensive with the boun- 
daries of this land. His sayings, hits, and witticisms have 
brought mirth to readers by the tens of thousands, and have 
been used "to point a moral or adorn a tale" by thousands 
of rostrum orators. In the Presidential election of 1892, 
I think, he and "Tim" Tarsney, of Michigan, accompanied 
me to Charlottesville to speak at a large gathering of the 
people. 

Tarsney, who was a most captivating stumper, delighted 
his hearers. He had been a Federal soldier and was for a 
time a prisoner at Belle Isle, Richmond, and before him 
were hundreds of Confederate veterans. 

Without making a recantation or singing a palinode, he 
spoke of the fratricidal strife in a manner that made him 
the hero of the occasion, and made the "Old Confeds" al- 
most shout their lungs away, and when he concluded, his 
reception at the hands of the "boys" who had worn the 
gray was as spontaneous and warm as I have ever seen 
given to any speaker in my long political life. Allen fol- 
lowed him in a characteristic speech, and the meeting closed, 
figuratively speaking, with the sky filled with rockets and 
the air with shouts and cheers for Cleveland and Democracy. 
In his speech Allen referred to his district as a district so 
black that "in any gathering a white man looked like a peeled 
onion in a tar barrel." 

He gave an account of his first canvass for a political of- 
fice, — district attorney, — in which an old colored orator, 
who was his friend, appeared on the platform with him at 
a certain point "where there were acres of negroes and not 



310 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

a white man before him." He said he spoke eloquently of 
his legal learning, his knowledge of Blackstone and every 
authority since Blackstone's days, his acknowledged virtues 
and fitness for the high office, his determination to do his 
duty, his whole duty and nothing but his duty, and closed 
by appealing to every voter to exercise his free-born right 
as a sovereign American citizen by voting for him. 

When he took his seat his colored friend and orator arose 
with great dignity and said : 

"My bredren an' sisterns : It was my purpus w'en I 'com- 
panied my beloved frien', who I played wid w'en we was 
boys, an' went a fishin' an' a coon huntin' wid — I say, my 
bredrens an' sisterns, w'en I cum here dis lubly night under 
dem stars dat shine out above us, it was my intenshun to 
make a speech fer my frien' ; but my bredrens an' sisterns, 
my dear frien' has recommended hisself so much higher dan 
I kin recommend him, I thinks I had better be n'utral on dis 
here occasion. But I want to say, my bredrens an' sisterns, 
befo' I take my seat, dat I'se gwine to vote fer my frien', 
fer he knows moren about Blackshine an' all dem fellows 
who lay down de law to us, dan any man I knows of in dis 
free land of liberty." 

Allen was elected. 

As we were all returning to Washington the next day, 
Tarsney, who was a good story-teller, and Allen were 
cracking jokes, when soon after we struck the Manassas 
Country, Allen said : "Look here, Tim, once in the long 
ago we gray-backs made a lot of you blue- jackets git up and 
git through these fields and pine woods. Were you with 
them?" Tarsney replied he was. "Well, Tim," said 
Allen, "an Irishman who was with us found a blue-jacket on 
the side of one of these roads, and he told the Irishman he 
was wounded in the leg, and appealed to him to carry him 
to some place of safety. The Irishman, in the bigness of his 
soul, gathered the 'Yank' up on his back and went tugging 
along as best he could, when a cannon-ball knocked the 
Yank's head off without the Irishman knowing anything 
about it. 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 31 1 

"Directly some gray-back said, 'Pat, what are you carry- 
ing that dead man for?' Pat replied, 'He isn't dead.' 'But 
he is dead; he has no head.' 'The divil you say!' cried 
Pat as he threw the headless man from his back. Then, 
eyeing the lifeless form for a moment, Pat exclaimed : 'Did 
ye ever see the loike of him? The darned bugger decaved 
me; he told me he was only shot in the leg!' " 

The two wisest men in the House during my extended 
service were John S. Barbour, of Virginia, and David B. 
Culberson, of Texas; there were others who approached 
them, but there were none who equaled them. There were 
men of more learning, more general information — men of 
more brilliancy and more attractiveness, but none safer, 
sounder, or steadier. Barbour was not a speaker on his 
feet, but around a committee table, where business is really 
mapped out, measures deliberately discussed, and bills ma- 
turely considered, or in the council chamber, he was a power. 
Then his mind worked, his reasoning faculties were aroused, 
and his judgment was acute. 

Culberson was a speaker of great force, but he was sel- 
dom heard; yet whenever heard, he had the closest 
attention. The House would hang upon his words, for they 
were instructive and weighty. He was not as energetic as 
Barbour, who was all energy; he was disposed to take his 
ease and much of his time was spent in the retiring-room, 
but there he always had an audience, and in the most non- 
chalant manner he was constantly "throwing off great 
chunks of wisdom," as some member expressed it, for others 
to take up and utilize. 

He had been in his younger days a great criminal lawyer, 
and had defended perhaps more men charged with murder 
than any lawyer living within the last fifty years, and it was 
said that not one he had ever defended was hung. The re- 
tort of the doctor when told by a lawyer that "a doctor 
buried all of his mistakes," that "the mistakes of a lawyer 
often dangled at the end of a rope," could not have l>een 
made to this distinguished Texas representative. 



312 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

I would rather have submitted a grave question to the 
judgment of John S. Barbour and David B. Culberson, with 
the power to call in an umpire in case of disagreement, such 
as they might have selected, rather than to any committee 
that has ever existed in the House of Representatives. 

Both of these wise men have passed from the scenes and 
turmoils of this life, we trust to that abode "where everlast- 
ing suns shed everlasting brightness." 

From my memorial address on the life and character of 
John S. Barbour, delivered on the 25th day of February, 
1892, I quote as follows: 

Mr. Speaker, it has been my good fortune to meet and mingle with 
many of the men who in the last two decades or more have brightened 
the pages of our country's history, imprinted themselves upon the 
minds and hearts of the people, set examples worthy of emulation, and 
carved their names in the niches of enduring fame. Some have been 
orators who captivated the affections and swayed the passions of the 
people; some have been logicians leading us step by step down into the 
well where truth is found and then raising us to the surface full armed 
to meet the sophistries and heresies with which the world abounds; 
some have dazzled with their genius in the domain of literature or the 
arts and sciences ; some have shone with meteoric brilliancy in the 
walks of humanity and the broad field of a common brotherhood, ex- 
tending their sympathies in an ever-widening circle; some have risen 
to heights of glory on land and sea and drawn forth peans and praises 
for their courage and skill, devotion and patriotism in the dread arena 
of war, and some while neither orators, logicians, men of letters nor 
science, philanthropists nor warriors, have combined within themselves 
qualities of mind and heart which made society transcendently better 
because they were members of it, the Republic far better because they 
were citizens of it, and the world much better because they lived in it, 
and in this class stood John S. Barbour, high in rank, the equal of the 
loftiest, the peer of the noblest. * * * 

Death, "the golden key that opens the palace of eternity," came to 
him in May last, in the early morning when the air was redolent with 
the perfume of flowers and musical with the lays of the birds, and 
when nature seemed to be inviting all to live and be joyous. 

Messages on electric wings flew throughout the domain of Virginia, 

and the joy and gladness of that May morn were turned to sadness 

and sorrow, and hearts were made to bleed, and eyes were made to 

moisten. 
********** 

Recently the legislature of Maryland elected to a seat in 
the Senate of the United States a gentleman who as a mem- 
ber of Congress stood among the brainiest of the brainy men 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY SOME INSTANCES 313 

of that brainy body. His brilliant career since has been no 
surprise to those who observed his strong points years ago. 
Combined with a well-rounded character, he was a most in- 
defatigable worker, and a speaker of supreme dash and mag- 
netism, and of great force and eloquence. He was classed 
among the orators of the House and among the most valu- 
able members. I speak of Hon. Isador Raynor. 

In my opinion the lamented Benjamin Butter worth, of 
Ohio, was the most attractive and forceful debater on the 
Republican side of the chamber during my service. I heard 
him on different occasions engaged in debates with Repub- 
licans on non-political, and with Democrats on party ques- 
tions, and he either achieved a decisive victory or inflicted 
as much injury upon his opponent as he himself received. 
He was of Virginia lineage on his maternal side, and always 
had a kind word for the State that had given birth to her 
"who had taught him to pray, and venerate the soil in whose 
bosom rested the dust of his elder maternal ancestors." His 
mother was of Quaker descent and was born near "Hope- 
well," an old Quaker meeting-house in Frederick County, 
around which there was hard fighting on the day of the 
Winchester battle between Sheridan and Early. Virginia's 
representatives had his friendship, and his aid too, whenever 
he could consistently give it. 

David B. Henderson, of Iowa, late Speaker, was to me 
an exceedingly picturesque and attractive member. With a 
w r ar record to be admired and a boldness and pleasant ag- 
gressiveness that were attractive, standing upon one leg, the 
other having been left on some battle-field, with a face that 
showed courage, yet beamed with generosity, with a voice 
distinctly audible in all parts of the hall, never indulging in 
abuse of "rebels," always recognizing the rights of the mi- 
nority and not attempting to drive them to the wall by 
sheer force of numbers, he secured my admiration and re- 
spect, and I rejoiced when the Speaker's gavel fell to him in 
the Fifty-seventh Congress. 

Joseph D. Sayers, of Texas, was a man whom it was 
necessary to know to appreciate his true worth. He was 



3 14 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

plain and unassuming, modest almost to a fault, gentle in 
manner and amiable in disposition. There was nothing 
showy about him. Inch by inch, almost, at first he advanced, 
then step by step he moved forward, and began to attract 
attention quietly and smoothly forge his way to the front 
and make himself felt. In the Fifty-second Congress, I 
think, he was appointed a member of the Committee on Ap- 
propriations, and he soon became a leader in this important 
committee that held the purse-strings of the Nation. He 
had everything at his fingers' ends. He sustained the posi- 
tion with facts and figures, and whenever he got through 
hammering an appropriation item it usually had little life 
left in it. He saved the country millions and prevented 
many a raid upon the treasury by his tireless energy and 
ceaseless vigilance. When he retired from Congress to ac- 
cept gubernatorial honors the House lost one of its most 
valuable members. 

There was no more astute, wide-awake member than John 
Dalzell, of Pennsylvania, particularly whenever any measure 
affecting the coal or iron interests was before the House 
He was thoroughly posted upon everything connected with 
these interests, from the "black diamond" and crude ores in 
their native beds to the merchantable article of the one and 
the finished product of the other ; the mantle of William D. 
Kelley seemed to have fallen upon his shoulders, and he 
wore it most worthily. He naturally preferred that coal and 
iron should be let alone after satisfactory tariff duties were 
placed upon them, but he never avoided a contest, but would 
take up the gage whenever it was thrown down. 

A ready, vigorous, and rough-and-tumble fighter was 
Charles H. Grosvenor, of Ohio. He was a man of intellec- 
tual power, and was apparently irritable and ill-tempered ; 
he always looked, when he was engaged in making one of 
his characteristic fiery, peppery efforts, as though he was 
ready to execute his opponent without the benefit of clergy; 
but it was only his way, and while a stranger would have 
thought he was a regular fire-eater, his associates knew that 
it was only a surface display, and that his real nature was 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY SOME INSTANCES 315 

just the opposite of what it seemed to be when he was firing 
his broadsides and jarring the pillars of the Capitol with his 
cannonading. 

Henry G. Turner, of Georgia, was among the giants of 
the body. He was a deep thinker and went to the bottom 
of every measure he discussed. He seldom occupied the 
floor, but whenever he did he commanded the utmost atten- 
tion. He spoke with earnestness, with scrupulous regard 
for the facts, confined himself closely to the subject, and 
never lugged in any extrinsic matter. He hewed to the 
line, made no attempt at rhetorical flourishes, but with a 
well-modulated voice, pure English, and sledge-hammer 
blows he attracted all, confirmed those who were inclined his 
way, and converted many a dissentient. 

In the Presidential campaign of 1896 he declared his dis- 
agreement with the free-silver plank of the National Demo- 
cratic platform, and while his people were willing to return 
him to Congress, notwithstanding his anti-free-silver views, 
he declined a re-election, upon the high ground that a rep- 
resentative should be in accord with the political views of 
his party. Thus, constant to his convictions, and firm in the 
right, as he saw it, he cast aside the proffered honor and 
voluntarily retired to the shades and walks of private life. 
Recently his death cast the mantle of sorrow over the State 
that loved him so well. 

James D. Richardson, of Tennessee, entered Con- 
gressional life in the Forty-ninth Congress and was soon 
recognized as a most industrious, energetic, and vigilant rep- 
resentative. Gradually he developed into an active and well- 
equipped debater. 

His very tall and slender figure made him a marked man 
on the floor, and his uniform Prince Albert suit of black and 
smooth face gave him the appearance of a clergyman rather 
than a lawmaker. Since the days of my association with 
him he has won more golden honors, and has been the Dem- 
ocratic leader in the House, a distinction second only to that 
of Speaker — in fact he would have held this exalted posi- 



316 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

tion if his party had been in the majority instead of the 
minority. 

William P. Hepburn, of Iowa, was a strong- and faithful 
servant of his people. Socially he was pleasant and com- 
panionable, but from the time "silence" was commanded in 
the morning until adjournment in the evening, like the pro- 
verbial Irishman, he carried a chip on his head and invited 
any Democrat to knock it off. 

He was always pugnacious, and would lose his lunch or 
even a dining any day to have a "scrap" with a Democrat, 
particularly if the Democrat happened to be a "rebel" in the 
long years gone by, but who, though never lowering his 
manhood by begging pardon or admitting he was wrong, 
was as loyal to the flag of the Union as the bravest who 
fought under it. Personally I liked Hepburn, and I took an 
occasional stroll with him, and I often regretted that he 
could not be his real self on the floor. 

The most courtly member was Charles E. Hooker, of 
Mississippi. He was all urbanity. Always neatly attired, 
with his splendid face and graceful manner, his empty sleeve 
attesting his courage in the tempest of shot and shell, and 
usually displaying his taste for the beautiful in nature by 
wearing a boutonniere of his favorite flower, the rose, a 
stranger rarely entered the gallery without inquiring who 
he was before leaving. 

He was highly cultured and a polished orator, and often 
have I listened with rapture to his flashes of rhetoric and 
flights of eloquence. But his oratory was of that order that 
clothed strong points and arguments in beauty — he made 
dull facts and figures attractive. 

The Romans heard the oratory of Cicero without material 
results; the Athenians heard Demosthenes, and when he 
finished they were breathing revenge and exclaiming, "Let 
us go and fight against Philip !" 

Sereno Payne, of New York, gave promise of the wide 
and well-earned distinction he has since attained. 

He was a full, suave, well-poised man; alert, energetic, 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY SOME INSTANCES T> 1 7 

and earnest. He was discreet and diplomatic, and was a val- 
ued lieutenant of Speaker Reed in all party emergencies. 

Daniel N. Lockwood and John DeWitt Warner, of New 
York, were representatives worthy of their State, and if they 
had not tired so soon of Congressional life they would have 
become shining lights. They were both men of splendid 
mental power and were capable of holding their own in de- 
bate with the ablest. 

I knew Mr. Lockwood better than I knew Mr. Warner, 
as Mr. Lockwood was a member of the Committee on Elec- 
tions, of which I was chairman, and besides I sat by him 
in the Fifty-second Congress. His judgment was sound ; in 
counsel he was safe. He had the courage of his convictions 
and nothing could swerve him from the course he had de- 
liberately marked out. Though a Democrat "through and 
through," he voted to unseat the contestee — a Democrat 
from his own State — in the celebrated case of Noyes versus 
Rockwell, heretofore noticed. The pressure upon him was 
immense, but it made no impression upon him, and he dared 
to do his duty as he understood it. 

I must refer to Joseph Wheeler, of Alabama, but it would 
seem to be supererogation, for the deeds and fame of Gen- 
eral Wheeler reach to the farthest limit of this Republic. 
But they are his military deeds and martial fame. I shall 
write briefly of his Congressional service. His attention 
to the wants of his constituents was unequaled. From his 
own pocket he supplied his entire district with public books, 
documents, and seeds. When his own quota was exhausted 
he bought until his supply was ample for all the demands 
of his district. He was the best letter writer in Congress; 
every letter his mail brought, however simple, received a re- 
ply. His energy and activity were boundless. He was 
never in one place for any length of time unless from neces- 
sity. He kept well up with matters of legislation, took part 
frequently in the debates, and his speeches bore evidence of 
hard study and rigid research. He possessed much origi- 
nality of thought, and never hesitated to combat a time- 
honored principle or attack an ancient, deeply-rooted doc- 



318 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

trine, if he believed they were founded upon false premises 
or had outlived their day. He was not a popular speaker; 
his voice was weak, and he lacked the grace and manner of 
those who can hold multitudes within their grasp, tickle the 
ear, and convince the judgment. But his speeches were 
well prepared, and read well; they abounded in strength, 
and were always instructive. 

Among the ablest, most attractive, and promising younger 
members during my service was John A. Hemphill, of 
South Carolina. He was a fine lawyer, a quick, ready, fluent 
and dashing debater, with a clear, ringing, and musical 
voice. To hear him once when stirred and animated whet- 
ted the desire to hear him again. He was a hard student, a 
worthy representative of the cultured and chivalrous peo- 
ple he represented, and if he had not retired he would have 
reaped honors fast and thick. 

There was a member from a distant State whose name I 
shall not mention for reasons that will hereafter appear, who 
was every inch a man, but "a rough diamond." When he 
was elected to Congress he knew little of the world outside 
of his district, and nothing of the more modern ways of city 
life. Upon reaching Washington he was picked up at the 
depot by a porter and conducted to about a fourth-class 
hotel. Comparing it to the country taverns in his rural dis- 
trict, the hotel was a snug place indeed for him, and entirely 
satisfactory. The proprietor, learning he was a Congress- 
man, got him to write M. C. at the end of his name when 
he registered. 

A newspaper reporter dropped in during the evening, and 

discovering the name of , M. C, on the register, 

knew that he must be a member "from a backwoods dis- 
trict," as he afterwards expressed it, and he determined "to 
write him up" ; so in a day or two he wrote and published 
in a morning paper a story to the following effect : "Hon- 
orable , M. C. [giving his name] , stopped on his 

arrival in the city at Hotel . He retired early, as is 

his custom. The next morning, very early, the servants 
smelt escaping gas, and they traced it to the parlors occupied 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 3 10. 

by Honorable , M. C. After pounding for some 

time upon the door of the distinguished guest, he appeared 
at the door en deshabille, and in stentorian tones demanded 
to know what they wanted. They informed him that gas 
was escaping in his rooms, and asked him if he didn't smell 
it. The Honorable M. C. replied, 'Why, I have been smell- 
ing that smell all night, and I have been waiting for the 
sun to rise, so I could get up, pay my bill, and leave the 
d — d stinking house. You say it's gas. Well, I never smelt 
such a smell before in my life.' The Honorable M. C. had 
blown the gas out when he retired, and the wonder is that 

the State of [giving the State] is not minus a member 

this morning. Moral : Don't send a man to Congress who 
doesn't know better than to blow out the gas." 

The whole story was a miserable fabrication, yet it caused 
much merriment among certain classes. The old M. C. was 
aroused beyond measure. He denounced the story as false, 
but kept his future intentions to himself. He ascertained 
quietly the name of the reporter, but it was several months 
before he met him; then he was pointed out by a friend, in 
the lobby of the Capitol, and the result was the reporter re- 
ceived such a chastisement that the newspaper he repre- 
sented was either minus a reporter or had to employ a sub- 
stitute for some time. 

The next morning the old M. C. was summoned before 
the Police Court, confessed the assault, and was fined $25 
and costs, which he instantly paid. As he left the court hall 
he remarked : "Well, I am glad the thing is all over. If I 
hadn't thrashed that fellow I would never have gone back- 
to my district. I don't begrudge the money I have paid, but 
the judges in my State don't administer justice that way." 

From that moment he was a noted man. He served his 
people faithfully and was re-elected for a second term. He 
had been a soldier in the "War of the Rebellion." and many 
stories were told of his coolness and gallantry in action. 

I have spoken of Colonel Charles E. Hooker as the most 
courtly member, but I should have excepted Hon. William 
H. F. Lee, of Virginia, son of the immortal commander of 



320 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

the Army of Northern Virginia. General Lee was a very 
large man, much larger than his illustrious father. He was 
a born gentleman, and had of course been reared in an at- 
mosphere of culture and refinement. He was a strikingly 
handsome man, tall, erect, and in height several inches over 
six feet. He was a lovable man, and the people of his dis- 
trict, which was immediately opposite Washington, were 
devoted to him. He was faithful to every duty, and to such 
an extent as to break down his health by overwork, causing 
his premature death. 

He was a pleasant talker, and there was not a member on 
the floor who would have made a caustic reply to anything 
he might have said ; in fact, he was so gentle and moderate 
in speech as never to irritate or provoke a sharp retort. He 
had m his district an Episcopal Seminary, from which a 
vast number of young ministers had walked forth to become 
in after years distinguished divines. The Seminary suf- 
fered severely in the destruction of, or damage to, its build- 
ings during the war. General Lee introduced a bill to reim- 
burse it for its losses, and the bill came up for consideration 
upon a favorable report ; the Democrats generally favored it, 
but the General, fearing that the Republicans would oppose 
it, quietly and with dignity walked to the center of their side, 
and made his speech in behalf of his bill directly to them. 

They listened attentively and with profound respect. Fi- 
nally there came an interruption from behind him. A faint 
voice was heard : "Will the gentleman from Virginia yield 
to a question ?" The General turning his head, said in the 
most winning manner, "Why certainly." "Was this school 
continued during the Rebellion ?" "Yes, as far as possible. 
Most of the professors remained there," said the General. 
"For whom did those professors pray? Did they pray for 
the Unionists or for the Confederates?" The General's 
reply was instant, "I do not know ; I never heard them pray, 
but they were saintly men, and I presume they prayed for 
all sinners, and left the good Lord to say who were the sin- 
ners." 

The whole House applauded, the General continued his 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCIES 32 I 

speech to the end without further interruption, and his bill 
passed. He died not long after this, and many handsome 
tributes were paid his memory. My feelings prompt me to 
put within these covers a portion of my simple tribute to 
my dead colleague, and Virginia's lofty son. 

Mr. Speaker: The illustrious father of William H. F. Lee, when the 
shadows of Appomattox closed round him, when the darkness of defeat 
enveloped him, when his soul was rent and torn and his mind was 
filled with anguish and his ragged and tired and worn veterans, reduced 
to a mere thin skirmish line, the remnant of an army that had shed 
unfading luster upon the American arms and the American soldier, 
gathered with tear-moistened cheeks about him to bid him farewell 
and receive his blessing, gave utterance to a sentiment just quoted by 
my colleague (Mr. Tucker), a sentiment as grand and noble as was 
ever written upon any Roman tablet or upon any column of enduring 
marble ever reared in the flood light of glory — 

"Duty is the sublimest word in our language." 

Yes, Mr. Speaker, thus spoke Robert E. Lee, the soldier, hero, Chris- 
tian, and philanthropist; and when we come to study the life and char- 
acter of William Henry Fitzhugh Lee we are impressed with the fact 
that he took duty as his talismanic word, that it was the star that guided 
him, and that he followed it as faithfully as the "wise men" followed 

'"the Star" from the East to Jerusalem and thence to Bethlehem. 

* * * * ****** 

As a representative he was as true to his constitutents as any subject 
to his sovereign, laboring in season and out of season to serve them, 
and even when his strong frame began to weaken and the germs of 
disease had been planted in his system, he disregarded the warning 
calls for rest and continued to bend all his energies in the discharge of 
his trust, and I but speak the truth when I say that he fell a martyr to 
duty. 

It would be unpardonable in me if I did not record my 
estimate of William Lyne Wilson, of West Virginia. 

My friendship and attachment for him in life, and my 
love for his memory now that he is dead, may blind me to 
faults which others could detect, and yet my superior oppor- 
tunities for knowing the man and observing his daily walk 
and conversation, and my close relations to him — so close as 
to hear his heartbeats and feel the throbbing of his pulse — 
give me an advantage over any casual or even frequent ob- 
server. I knew him first as a private in the cavalry squad- 
ron I commanded in 1862-3. He was a small, smooth- 
21 



322 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

faced and fair-haired young soldier about my own age. He 
was quiet, unostentatious, thoughtful and meditative. 
There was nothing in the life of a soldier that was congenial 
to his nature. He was in the Army from a sense of duty — 
but it was a sense so keen that he would take any chance, 
accept any peril, and face any danger as a volunteer and not 
simply when ordered. He never sought promotion ; he pre- 
ferred others to wear the marks of non-commissioned or 
commissioned officers. Duty was his guiding star and he fol- 
lowed it constantly in its course. When Appomattox came 
there were more daring records, but not one in which there 
was more of unselfish patriotism and fidelity to duty. He 
studied law and rapidly climbed the ladder of his profession. 
When about forty he entered Congress (we entered to- 
gether), and from the day of his entrance forward he rose 
step by step, until the Fifty-second Congress, when he was 
appointed chairman of the important Committee on Ways 
and Means. From this committee came the bill known as 
"The Wilson Tariff Bill," and he closed the discussion of it 
to a thronged House and gallery, to the delight of the Dem- 
ocrats and the admiration of the Republicans. It was a 
great speech. Though the subject was a hackneyed one and 
had been worn into frazzles, he pursued new lines and by his 
fine choice of language and striking illustrations he gave a 
freshness to the old subject that drew applause every few 
minutes during his long effort, and when he closed and the 
House adjourned, a thousand congratulations, from politi- 
cal foes as well as friends, were showered upon him. 

The vicissitudes of politics forced his retirement from the 
Halls of Congress, and he then entered the Cabinet of Presi- 
dent Cleveland as Postmaster-General, which position he 
filled most admirably until the conclusion of Mr. Cleveland's 
last term. Then the trustees of Washington and Lee Uni- 
versity displayed their foresight and wisdom in calling him 
to the presidency of that institution. But soon his health, 
which had never been robust, failed, and he passed away, 
rounding out his well-spent and useful life teaching the 
youth of the land, and filling the same chair filled by his 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME ENSTANCl 323 

commander in war — Robert E. Lee. It is said "every man 
has his fault," and William Lyne Wilson may have had his, 
but if he had, my finite eye never discovered it. He died 
not far past middle age, but 

"He who lives well, lives long." 

I would stifle my feeling and fail to follow the prompt- 
ings of my heart if I did not mention at least some of my 
immediate colleagues. Among all the State delegations 
there was no one more closely united than the Virginia dele- 
gation in each of the six terms of my service. Lasting ties 
were formed, perpetual friendships cemented. 

To some of them I have already given space. Others 
will now receive from me the tribute my poor pen can be- 
stow. Henry St. George Tucker inherited in an eminent 
degree the talent and characteristics of his distinguished 
father, J. Randolph Tucker. He was a fine lawyer, a fluent 
and magnetic speaker, always well prepared, and never 
failed to acquit himself handsomely in debate. He was 
full of spirit, never depressed, wearing at all times a smile 
on his face in meeting a friend. His constituents were ex- 
tremely fond of him, and on the stump he had a style that 
inspired and animated his friends without offending or in- 
tensifying the animosity of his foes. 

William A. Jones was as placid as a May morn unless 
aroused, when he was as turbulent as a cyclone. He was a 
speaker who made no attempt at oratory, but with well- 
chosen sentences he aimed his blows with directness and 
precision. He was a hard student and worker, and grew 
in popularity with his constituents from term to term, until 
all opposition disappeared, and he is now the Nestor of his 
delegation. 

Paul C. Edmunds was a farmer, and was styled "Farmer 
Edmunds." He was a worker rather than a speaker, but he 
accomplished far more by "his still hunts" than very many 
with their brass bands, as he expressed it. He was en- 
dowed with an abundance of sound sense, and his judgment 
was sought by all of us when we were in a state of doubt or 



324 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

uncertainty. He was perhaps the most popular man on the 
floor, and often were the rules suspended to pass a bill — 
simply because it was "Edmunds's bill." He was all jollity 
and kindness, and his soul was incapable of harboring - re- 
venge or bearing malice. In the midst of his usefulness he 
was cut down. May the grass grow green upon his grave. 

Connally F. Trigg was a man of fine appearance — a strik- 
ing man in any assemblage. He was a forceful speaker; 
bold, dashing, and aggressive. He loved the joint dis- 
cussion on the stump, and the warmer it was the better he 
liked it. He would fight to the last ditch, and if he was 
ever whipped he never knew it. He was generous with all 
of his aggressiveness, magnanimous with all of his pugnac- 
ity. He was faithful in the discharge of his official duties, 
and believed that no district within the expanse of the 
Union could compare with the southwestern district of Vir- 
ginia in the nobility of its people, its agricultural and min- 
eral wealth — and in my opinion he was not far wrong. 

Thomas Croxton was a lawyer of long standing, of great 
legal learning, and among the leaders of the State bar. He 
was a delightful companion, of elegant manners, and his 
language "as chaste as ice, as pure as snow." He had been 
prominent in the Democratic party for many years, and was 
"Sir Oracle" among his people upon all political questions. 
Congressional life was not congenial to him, and his ser- 
vice was short, but long enough to impress the House with 
his fine ability, culture, and force of character. His recent 
death brought universal sorrow — to his friends, because 
they loved him and knew his worth ; and to Virginia, be- 
cause she felt she had lost a valued and loyal son. 

Edward C. Venable, who was unseated in the contest 
against him made by the colored Republican, John M. Lang- 
ston, was a gentleman of fine attainments, high culture, and 
lofty character. In the usual sense of the term he was not 
a speaker, but he was strong in conversational debate, and 
often have I heard him, in the cloak-room or private circle 
in a discussion of important questions, put hors de combat 
gentlemen with wide reputation as public speakers. If he 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES 2> 2 5 

had retained his seat he would in a short time have become 
a most valuable and potential member, especially in com- 
mittee councils. 

Elisha E. Meredith was called suddenly from the bar, 
where he was enjoying the fruits of a lucrative practise, to 
fill a vacancy, but he instantly sprang into notice, and but 
for his death, which soon occurred, he would have become 
a prominent member. He possessed the elements which 
would have led to high rank in the Congressional arena. 

Posey G. Lester was a Baptist minister of the "Hard- 
shell" branch of the church. He had been nominated by 
the Democrats because of his great popularity in his "Hard- 
shell" Republican district, and was elected by a handsome 
majority. He was a truly good man and carried his re- 
ligion into the House with him. His religious faith domi- 
nated all other things, and never would he break the Sab- 
bath by remaining in the House after twelve o'clock Satur- 
day night, however important the measure or however 
urgent party necessity. He was a safe, faithful, and con- 
scientious representative, and had the respect and esteem of 
all his Virginia colleagues, as well as all who knew his char- 
acter and unflinching adherence to the path of right. 

Joseph D. Brady was genial and affable, a true and con- 
stant friend, warm-hearted and generous. Though a 
staunch Republican, he was conservative and temperate. 
He possessed fine business capacity and clear judgment, and 
at the date of his recent death he was the Collector of In- 
ternal Revenue of the Richmond district, which position he 
was filling most satisfactorily to the Government and public. 

James F. Epes was true to every duty. He was the very 
genius of energy and activity. He had a bright intellect and 
was the very soul of honor. He was open, frank, and in- 
genuous, and despised concealment, disguise, and artfulness. 
He was genial and warm in his nature, but with a spirit that 
brooked no wrong; a friend to whom you could link your all 
with absolute faith, but an enemy to be dreaded when he felt 
aggrieved. He was a lawyer and farmer and had been suc- 
cessful in both vocations, and in Congress he fully measured 



326 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

up to the standard of a judicious and faithful representa- 
tive. 

George E. Bovvden was a wide-awake representative and 
active in behalf of his constituents, whose wants were num- 
erous during a Republican Administration, and he was ex- 
ceedingly successful in securing department positions for his 
party friends, as he was not only a leader of his party in his 
State, but had the ear of the National authorities. He was 
an astute politician, but not so partisan in word or manner 
as to wound the feelings of his political foes. He is now 
the efficient clerk of the Circuit Court of the United States 
for the Eastern District of Virginia, sitting at Norfolk, and 
is still a light in his party. 

James W. Marshall was one of the most remarkable men 
of the body in many respects. In his element — which was 
when addressing a promiscuous audience of voters in which 
there was a preponderance of "the horny-handed sons of 
toil" — he was equal to any speaker I have ever heard. His 
manner was absolutely unique; in fact, neither in manner, 
style, gesture, intonation nor voice did he pattern after any- 
body; he was original; he would quote Scripture, 
history, or poetry in his own way; he would tell 
a story different from the way anybody else would tell 
it; his voice was peculiarly his own, and when he soared 
upon the wings of eloquence, real eloquence, he soared 
differently from any orator to whom I have ever lis- 
tened. I repeat, he was and is a remarkable man, for he 
still lives. He is a self-made man, as the term is usually 
used. His early opportunities were not good. He came 
out of the Confederate Army with a splendid record, but 
without a cent in his pocket and with gloom and desolation 
all around him, but with a courageous heart he went to 
work to carve out his own opportunities and he succeeded. 
I would be glad to depict his struggles and his victories, 
and hold him up as an example of what an American boy 
with brain and courage, will and determination can do in 
this land of unlimited possibilities. My poor tribute has 
been written with a free pen and willing heart. In conclu- 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTANCES $2J 

sion I will only say that his Congressional career was entire- 
ly creditable; that he was true to his trust, as he had been 
to every previous trust. 

With the mention of another of my Virginia colleagues 
I must conclude my recollections of them and pass to some 
other subject. 

The colleague to whom I refer was a young man of only 
thirty years of age when in 1892 he was elected to Congress 
by a handsome majority over his Republican opponent. 
He had been prominent in Democratic circles for several 
years, and regarded as a "coming" man. As a campaign 
speaker he had won encomiums and become popular in his 
district, especially among the young men, always a tower 
of strength. He succeeded George C. Cabell, of whom I 
have written, who had retired from active politics, and 
whose place as a representative was hard to fill ; but it was 
not long before the young representative began to develop 
qualities that bade fair to make him not only a useful but a 
notable member on the floor. He was alert and active, and 
as industrious as any tiller of the soil who had taken hold 
of his plow handles with a firm grip and with a steady pur- 
pose to plow deep, sow well, and reap a rich harvest. His 
habits were exemplary ; his study hours ran into the morn- 
ing hours; he familiarized himself with the rules and de- 
tails of the departments and was soon on intimate terms 
with their heads. He was simply indefatigable in his 
efforts to thoroughly equip himself for the practical part of 
his important trust. In the meantime he was studying mat- 
ters of legislation and the rules governing the House. No 
idle bread did he eat; no time did he lose in frivolity or the 
shades of ease. My service with him was short, but not in 
all my service did I observe any young member, inex- 
perienced in legislation and public affairs as he was. develop 
more rapidly and go to the front more quickly. He had 
within him the metal of a man and the spirit and determina- 
tion that bring success. Without a break he has continued 
in Congress to the present day. 

I need hardly call his name — Claude A. Swanson. 



328 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

I find I have traveled far in these reminiscences without 
more than a bare allusion to a man who is, I think, univer- 
sally regarded as ranking high among the foremost states- 
men of the age. For several terms he presided as Speaker 
of the House of Representatives during my service in this 
august assemblage. 

I refer to John G. Carlisle. He is surely "a heavy 
weight" — if I may be pardoned for using a prize-ring ex- 
pression — in the arena of debate and the forum of intellec- 
tual giants. He was first elected Speaker of the Forty-eighth 
Congress — the Congress in which I made my first appear- 
ance. As a Speaker he will go down in history as among 
the most eminent. 

He was just and fair to all ; quick in his rulings, cool at 
all times, firm and inflexible. In statecraft and constitu- 
tional law he displayed a fullness unexcelled. In debate he 
made no effort at rhetorical flourishes, indulged in no tropes 
or figures, stories or anecdotes, but from beginning to end- 
ing the sparks flew around him from his blows of logic 
like heated metal throws off corruscations when struck by 
a Vulcan's hammer. In the discussion of the Morrison 
Tariff Bill he was called to speak in its advocacy unexpect- 
edly. He left the chair and took his position on the floor, 
and without even a note before him he spoke for more than 
two hours to an entranced and enchained audience that 
packed the whole house and galleries. He followed Mr. 
Reed, who had spoken in opposition to the bill, and without 
disparagement to the effort of Mr. Reed, I simply record 
the truth when I declare that in comparison to Mr. Car- 
lisle's effort Mr. Reed's speech was as a gas jet to an electric 
light. 

In person Mr. Carlisle was tall and erect ; he had a strong 
face, wore no beard, and his step was quick and his move- 
ments showed great energy and earnestness. 

He went down politically under the tidal wave of free 
silver in 1896, and strange to say the people of his district, 
who had hitherto followed him almost with blind faith, 
under a sudden "passionate intuition" rebuked and rebuffed 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY — SOME INSTA.W : 329 

him. Since that time he has been pursuing the practise of 
the law in the city of New York. 

Before passing from the personnel of the House of Rep- 
resentatives I desire to say that during my twelve years' 
experience no man but a cynic or habitual fault-finder, and 
then not a stickler for the truth, could charge inebriety 
against either branch of the law-making power of our Gov- 
ernment. 

Never did I see or hear of more than three members who 
were perceptibly under the influence of intoxicating drink 
while on the floor, and they were immediately removed by 
friends. There is nothing easier than to make charges, and 
most singular it is, that some men delight in attacking pub- 
lic men and public bodies. A foreigner coming to this 
country during a heated political campaign, and knowing 
nothing of our public men, would think from what he heard 
that we selected our officials from the slums and the lowest 
orders of society and put the reins of government in their 
hands. Whenever a man is a candidate for an office, how- 
ever high his character may have been, he is assailed by op- 
posite partisans, frequently with demoniac fury, and if 
elected the assaults generally continue. 

It is rare indeed that a candidate escapes these animadver- 
sions. A story is started usually by some reckless and irre- 
sponsible person, and it travels as fast as the wind and gath- 
ers in proportion like a snowball on a down grade; it will 
cover miles and increase tenfold while "Truth is getting its 
boots on to pursue and arrest the lie." Only recently a 
candidate who had reached two score and ten, and who had 
stood among the highest in his community, was so outra- 
geously assailed that he said to me, "I stop and pinch myself 
often during the day to see if I am the man they are talking 
about." 

Some years ago I read in the National Library a Boston 
paper published during Washington's second administra- 
tion, in which there was a call for "the sovereign people of 
the Union, who had suffered so long and grievously, to rise 



330 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

in their might and put down the usurper and tyrant — 
George Washington." 

Wholesale charges of corruption against the Executive, 
Legislative, and Judicial Departments of our National Gov- 
ernment are sown broadcast without an iota of proof or a 
scintilla of evidence, and this is tolerated upon the ground 
that this is a land of free opinion and free speech. 

If I were called and sworn upon The Book of all books, 
and asked to give the name of a single member of either 
House during the six terms I served in the House of Repre- 
sentatives of the United States whom I ever believed was a 
corrupt man, I could not name the man. 

There is too much freedom of speech in this "land of the 
free and home of the brave." Freedom of speech here is 
interpreted as license of speech, and license of speech has 
sowed the seed of anarchy and watered and fertilized the 
hideous plant of anarchism. It has taught, promoted, and 
fostered doctrines inimicable and dangerous to our republi- 
can institutions, and opened upon us a Pandora's box of 
evils. 

Every patriot and thoughtful citizen should hail the day 
when the law-making power of the Union and of the several 
States shall stamp out license of speech and put a whole- 
some limit upon freedom of speech. 

The story that has often been told of the advice given by 
Henry Clay to a friend who was above reproach not to run 
for office, for all kinds of charges would be preferred 
against him to his great annoyance, and the report of his 
friend after the election, that "the rascals even went so far 
as to charge me with stealing a horse, and the worst of all 
is that they came darn nigh proving it on me," is an apt 
illustration of the political ways of many people of the pres- 
ent generation as well as in the generation in which Clay 
lived. 

A politician who has well-settled principles, and endeav- 
ors to promote the party which represents them and to se- 
cure the election of his party candidates by fair and honor- 
able means, or who aspires to position in the Government, 



CONGRESS A BRAINY BODY SOME INSTANCES 33 1 

as a representative of the principles of his party, without 
personal animadversion, in pursuing the lines of honor and 
commendable ambition, and is a citizen worthy of confi- 
dence and respect; but the politician who concerns himself 
with public affairs, not from patriotism or public spirit, but 
for his own profit, and is unscrupulous in his ways, is a 
man who should be excluded from the pales of public con- 
sideration for the sake of the general welfare of his com- 
munity or country. 



CHAPTER XII 

ARTHUR AND HARRISON — GROVER CLEVELAND 

My Impression of President Arthur— President Harrison— The South's 
Fear of him— I can Write Without Reserve of President Cleveland 
—A Mountaineer's Judgment of Him— His Pension Vetoes Justified 
—The Veto of the Dependent Pension Bill— The Proposition to 
Return Confederate Battle-Flags— Chicago Strike— Venezuela and 
the Monroe Doctrine. 

My acquaintance with Presidents Arthur and Harrison 
was quite limited. 

President Arthur impressed me with his amiability, 
courtesy, laborious habits, and strict attention to his duties. 
In the social circle he was delightful, and his official inter- 
course with Senators and Representatives was always pleas- 
ant. He was conservative in his views and had a cool and 
level head, and the Southern members felt assured that no 
morning newspaper would contain anything from him that 
would interrupt them in the enjoyment of their breakfast. 

President Harrison was of Virginia lineage, — a grandson, 
so to speak, of the Old Commonwealth,— but the Virginia 
and Southern members generally, during the Fifty-first 
Congress and after his Force-Bill Message, were constantly 
anxious as to what would be his Southern policy. His 
message of December 3, 1893, liad been so radical, much 
more extreme than the South had anticipated, and in two 
subsequent messages he had urged his Force-Bill views 
upon the attention of Congress, so that we knew he was in 
no amiable mood toward the South, and we felt that a 
weight was hanging over our heads which might descend 
any day. But our anxiety was relieved when we learned 
absolutely that no radical measure such as the Force Bill 
could pass the Senate. 

Of course the whole country recognized in President Har- 
rison an able, courageous, and conscientious statesman and 
a patriot, but the South feared him. My meetings with 



ARTHUR AND HARRISON — GROVER CLEVELAND 333 

him were so few and my opportunities to form conclusions 
as to his traits of character so poor, that I would do injus- 
tice to myself if I were to attempt to give a pen-picture of 
him. 

Of President Cleveland I can write without reserve, for I 
knew him long and well. There are facts in connection 
with his administrations which, so far as I have ever seen 
or heard, have never been presented in a plain and simple 
manner, and I shall undertake the task. 

In the way of illustration — in an uncomely way — of a 
striking characteristic of Mr. Cleveland I shall relate a little 
story. During the Presidential campaign of 1892 I was 
traveling in a buggy across a mountain to meet an engage- 
ment to speak at a Democratic barbecue. I overtook an old 
countryman on horseback, sitting on his grist, who was re- 
turning home from the mill. 

I spoke to him and we got into a conversation. I asked 
him if the people were warming up much on politics, and 
how they stood between Cleveland and Harrison. He said 
that things were getting pretty hot, and there was right 
smart division, but he was for Cleveland. That from what 
he could hear of Cleveland "he was the boss dog in the 
tannery." I said, "What do you mean by that?" He re- 
plied : "The boss dog, you know, has his own way about 
things and takes care of the premises, and he don't let others 
come around fooling with him. So when we elected Cleve- 
land before we elected him to run things to suit himself, for 
we didn't give him a partner, and he did run the people's 
business mighty well— he was the boss dog in the tannery 
and he is the man I think who ought to go back there." I 
agreed with his logic, and often during Mr. Cleveland's 
second administration did I recall the saying of the old 
countryman on the mountain side, when other people were 
trying to annoy and hamper the man who had been elected 
to "run the people's business," but who was maintaining 
with courage and firmness his position of "boss dog in the 
tannery." 



334 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERV£CE 

This expression of the untutored countryman was 
homely, but it illustrated the point he was making better 
than the most cultured language could have done. 

The people elected Grover Cleveland to be President of 
this Republic in 1884 and again in 1892, and for both terms 
he was President and fulfilled the trust, not only in name 
but in fact. He surrounded himself with able cabinet coun- 
sellors, — and with them he conferred, and great and mighty 
matters of state were discussed in Cabinet-meetings, and the 
course to be pursued determined to his satisfaction, and then 
all the clans and self-constituted advisers under the sun 
could not divert him from the line marked out. He was 
President and his mind was convinced ; the responsibility 
was upon his shoulders with none to share it with him, 
and he acted upon his own judgment. If he had taken the 
advice of "wise men" and made a mistake the blame would 
have been cast upon him, and not upon the "wise men." In 
matters not rising to the dignity of Cabinet matters he lis- 
tened patiently to all who desired to be heard and made dili- 
gent effort to acquire all necessary information before arriv- 
ing at a conclusion ; but when his conclusion was reached it 
was hard to shake it. His energy was indomitable ; his en- 
durance surprising; his capacity for details wonderful. 

He scrutinized closely every bill that was presented to 
him, and acquired the title of "The Veto President" by rea- 
son of his free exercise of the veto power. 

He vetoed three hundred and forty-one bills during his 
two terms. Of these (including the Dependent Pension 
Bill), two hundred and fifty-seven were bills granting pen- 
sions to Federal soldiers in the War between the States, — 
nearly all during his first term, — and thirteen bills to erect 
public buildings, all in the Northern States except two. 

A synopsis of a few of the pension bills that were passed 
will show the carelessness and recklessness with which pen- 
sions were granted. 

1. A man was in the Army for two months in 1862. In 
1 87 1 he filed a claim alleging paralysis from typhoid fever 
contracted in 1862. 



ARTHUR AND HARRISON GROVER CLEVELAND 335 

2. A soldier was granted a furlough to go home and vote. 
He was killed in a railroad collision on his way. 

3. A soldier served out an enlistment of four months in 
1 86 1. In 1879 he filed a claim, alleging as cause of disabil- 
ity, diarrhea and disease of the stomach, liver, kidneys and 
bladder. 

4. A soldier went hunting for his own pleasure or benefit, 
his shotgun burst and he lost three of his fingers. 

5. A soldier suffered a sunstroke in 1864. I* 1 1870 he 
was struck by a passing railroad train and killed. A pen- 
sion was granted to his widow upon the supposition that 
the sunstroke six years before had suddenly so affected his 
mind that he wandered upon the track and was killed in a 
temporary fit of insanity. 

6. A soldier who was at home on a furlough was in- 
jured by a fall from a wagon. He never did a day's ser- 
vice, and had deserted twice, but the charges of desertion 
had been removed to enable him to apply for a pension. 

7. In 1862 a soldier was wounded in the arm and was 
discharged. In 1880 he died from consumption and pneu- 
monia. 

8. In 1 86 1 a soldier enlisted and served until 1865, when 
he was discharged. In 1880, in leaving a barber-shop, he 
fell down-stairs and was killed. A pension was granted to 
his widow upon the allegation that he had contracted indi- 
gestion, bronchitis, nervous debility, and throat disease in 
the Army, which were the causes of his death. 

9. A soldier was bathing in the Potomac River near 
Washington and was drowned. A pension was granted to 
his father. 

10. A soldier was injured by two comrades, who were 
wrestling, falling upon him. 

11. A soldier was killed by one of his comrades in a per- 
sonal difficulty. A pension was granted to his widow. 

12. In 1863 a soldier received a gun-shot wound in his 
knee. In 1883 he died from apoplexy and his widow was 
granted a pension. 



336 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

13. In 1832 a man served for six weeks in the Black 
Hawk War. In 1884, fifty-two years thereafter, he applied 
for a pension upon the ground of chronic diarrhea con- 
tracted in service in the line of duty, and his bill passed. 

14. A soldier was absent at his home on a parole. He 
took part in a 4th of July celebration and was injured. 

15. A man who had never served a day, and was reported 
as a deserter, was found drowned in a canal near his home. 
A bill to pension his widow was passed. 

16. A substitute who had received a large bounty served 
in the Army from March 25th to May nth, 1865 — part of 
the time in the hospital with the measles. Fifteen years after 
his discharge he applied for a pension, alleging that the 
measles had affected his eyes and also his spinal column. 

17. A man on his way to enlist, but before reaching the 
place of enrollment and before he had become a soldier, fell 
into a new cellar and broke his leg. 

18. A photographer, not a soldier, was engaged in taking 
photographs when no battle was in progress, and was in 
some way injured. 

19. In 1879 a soldier applied for a pension, alleging he 
had contracted rheumatism in 1863. He conceded that he 
had never been attended by a physician during or after the 
war. 

20. In 1863 a captain entered the Army, and in a year he 
resigned to accept a civil position. Twenty years thereafter 
he applied for a pension upon the ground that while he was 
in service he had been thrown forward on his saddle and 
injured. He had never been treated and no person had 
ever heard that he was injured. 

21. A fellow re-enlisted in 1864, after being pronounced 
sound by the examining board. He served until the war 
closed. There was no record of any disability. In 1878 
he alleged that "by jar to his head, from heavy firing," prior 
to his second enlistment, he incurred epilepsy. 

22. A fellow in attempting to desert was shot in the thigh 
by a guard, as found by an examining board. 



ARTHUR AND HARRISON GROVER CLEVELAND 337 

22,. Two desperadoes had collected a gang in the moun- 
tains of a Southern State and were engaged in plundering 
the neighborhood. They were hunted down by home 
guards. Yet bills granting them pensions were passed. 

24. A fellow alleged he had been shot in the leg in a 
skirmish. The record and testimony of witnesses devel- 
oped the fact that at the time he alleged he had been shot he 
was in the hospital, and had been for weeks before and after, 
with intermittent fever and rheumatism. 

25. Another started, as he alleged, to volunteer; on the 
way his horse fell on his ankle and injured it. He never 
volunteered, but was drafted, after examination, in 1863, 
and served without ailment until mustered out in 1865. 
In 1879 he applied for a pension for alleged injury in 1862. 

I have taken these cases almost at random, and could mul- 
tiply cases like them many times. 

All of these bills were vetoed by President Cleveland in 
strong and pointed messages. In some of his messages, in 
cases of widows, he displayed the sorrow that his vetoes 
gave him, and his language was truly pathetic. In one he 
said: 

I believe her case to be a pitiable one and wish I could join in her 
relief; but unfortunately, official duty cannot always be well done when 
directed solely by sympathy and charity. 

In another : 

It is not a pleasant thing to interfere in such a case ; but we are 
dealing with pensions and not with gratuities. 

Many of his veto messages rang out in terse and severe 
terms against the disposition to present unjust and unmeri- 
torious claims for pensions. For instance in one message 
he closed with these words : 

The allowance of this claim, in my opinion, would be a travesty upon 
our whole scheme of pensions, and an insult to every decent veteran. 

Again: 

Tha rejection of this claim is right, unless the Government is to be- 
held as an insurer against every fatal casualty incurred by those whr 

22 



33& FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

have served in the Army, without regard to the manner of its occur- 
rence. 

Again : 

It is quite evident that this affidavit was contrived to deceive, and it 
is feared that it is but a sample of many that are made in support of 
claims for pensions. 

Still again : 

Heedlessness and a disregard of the principle which underlies the 
granting of pensions is unfair to the wounded, cripple soldier who is 
honored in the just recognition of his Government. Such a man should 
never find himself side by side on the pension roll with those who have 
been tempted to attribute the natural ills to which humanity is heir to 
service in the Army. Every relaxation of principle in the granting of 
pensions invites applications without merit and encourages those who 
for gain urge honest men to become dishonest. 

Thus the scrutinizing eye of President Cleveland and his 
faculty for details saved the treasury from many a raid and 
the tax-payers of our land from the payment of many an 
unjust claim. 

Nearly all of his vetoes of pension bills were sent in dur- 
ing his first term. His firm position on the subject of pen- 
sions and vigorous action in arresting fraudulent claims and 
exposing the careless and reckless manner in which they had 
been reported and passed had a most salutary effect. The 
number of applicants and their agents and attorneys was 
visibly reduced in the lobbies and committee rooms. He 
had been looking after "the people's business," and doing it 
with a courage that was admirable. 

But the vetoing of these special pension bills did not com- 
pare with his veto of the Dependent Bill in its far-reaching 
effect, and in this veto was the unfolding of the inflexible 
will and supreme moral courage of President Cleveland. 
The title of the act was "An Act for the relief of dependent 
parents and honorably discharged soldiers and sailors who 
are now disabled and dependent upon their own labor for 
support." 

In his message of February n, 1887. returning this bill 



ARTHUR AND HARRISON — GROVER CLEVELAND 33 / 

to the House of Representatives, wherein it originated, 
President Cleveland used this language : 

I can not believe that the vast peaceful army of Union soldiers who, 
having contentedly resumed their places in the ordinary avocations of 
life, cherish as sacred the memory of patriotic service, or who, havinir 
been disabled by the casualties of war, justly regard the present pension 
roll on which appear their names as a roll of honor, desire at this time, 
and in the present exigency, to be confounded with those who through 
such a bill as this are willing to be objects of simple charity and t 1 
gain a place upon the pension roll through alleged dependence. 
********** 

The evil threatened by this bill is, in my opinion, such that, charged 
with a great responsibility in behalf of the people, I can not do other- 
wise than to bring to the consideration of this measure my very best 
efforts of thought and judgment and perform my constitutional duty in 
relation thereto, regardless of all consequences except such as appeal 
to me to be related to the best and highest interests of the country. 

But vigilant as was President Cleveland in guarding the 
Treasury against pension raids, he did not make pension 
matters a specialty. He was as vigilant in the discharge of 
all duties. Nothing escaped his eye, which was almost omni- 
spective. 

It will not be my province to enter into an enumeration 
of all of the most important matters that occupied the atten- 
tion of President Cleveland during his two administrations. 
There are still some questions, however, that display in so 
marked a degree the traits and characteristics of the dis- 
tinguished man that I cannot exclude them from these remi- 
niscences. 

There was nothing that occurred that showed his con- 
stant desire to hew to the line of right more than his course 
in connection with the proposed return of the captured Con- 
federate flags stored in the War Department at Washing- 
ton. 

The Adjutant-General addressed a letter on the 30th of 
April, 1887, to the Secretary of War. Hon. William C. 
Endicott, suggesting the return of the Confederate flags to 
the authorities of the respective States in which the regi- 
ments which had borne these colors were organized, for 
such disposition as they might determine. 



34° FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

The Adjutant-General's letter was couched in the most 
patriotic and fraternal words. He said : 

While in all the civilized nations of the world trophies in war against 
foreign enemies have been carefully preserved and exhibited as proud 
mementoes of the nation's military glories, wise and obvious reasons 
have always excepted from the rule evidences of past internecine trou- 
bles which by appeals to the arbitrament of the sword have disturbed 
the peaceful march of a people to its destiny. 

Over twenty years have elapsed since the termination of the late Civil 
War. Many of the prominent leaders, civil and military, of the late 
Confederate States are now honored representatives of the people in 
the National Councils, or in other eminent positions, lending the aid of 
their talents to the wise administration of the affairs of the whole 
country; and the people of the several States composing the Union are 
now united, treading the broader road to a glorious future- 

Impressed with these views, I have the honor to submit the suggestion 
made in this letter for the careful consideration it will receive at your 
hands. 

The recommendation was, on May 26, 1887, approved 
by the President and Secretary of War. On June 7, 1887, 
letters were addressed to the Governors of the respective 
Southern States tendering the flags. 

Instantly mutterings of disapproval were heard from dif- 
ferent sections, and the right of the President to dispose of 
"government property" was denied. 

On June 16, 1887, the President addressed a letter to the 
Secretary of War, revoking the order for the return of the 
old flags, upon the ground that the return in the manner 
proposed was not authorized by existing law nor justified 
as "an Executive act" ; that their disposition should origi- 
nate with Congress. Though prompted by the highest 
patriotic motives and the loftiest fraternal feeling, as soon 
as his attention was called to the fact that Congress alone 
could dispose of "government property" he admitted his 
mistake and adhered to the letter of the law. 

I think it will be admitted that the objection came from 
souls as small as mustard seeds, or men who sought to keep 
alive war animosities or make political capital against the 
President in violent and thoughtless minds. 

These old flags were rags. They had been riddled with 
Federal bullets as they were borne aloft by brave Confed- 



ARTHUR AND HARRISON — GROVER CLEVELAND 34 1 

erate hands, or torn into fragments by the winds, and their 
staffs shattered, as their folds rustled on plain and field, in 
dell and valley, on hill-side and mountain-slope, where 
American valor had shone in splendor, and the blood of 
Americans had dyed crimson the jackets of the gray and 
the jackets of the blue. 

But the glorious old rags were, according to the letter of 
the law, "government property," and they were trophies 
won by brothers from brothers, in fratricidal war, and they 
must be held, scheduled and preserved, until disposed of in 
some way by a solemn Act of Congress. 

But in the sunlight of advanced public sentiment the pa- 
triotic and fraternal action of the Adjutant-General, Secre- 
tary of War, and President in 1887 stands now with the 
stamp of approval of all true Americans upon it. 

In the summer of 1894 a most dangerous condition of 
affairs existed in the city of Chicago. It was known as the 
Chicago Strike. The mails of the United States were ob- 
structed and the destruction of government property threat- 
ened by large assemblages and combinations of armed men. 
Terror reigned, and law and order were put at defiance. 
Ordinary proceedings at law were impracticable and the 
city and State officials were powerless or inert. 

President Cleveland, in the exercise of his constitutional 
power and in the discharge of his official duties, issued his 
proclamation admonishing all citizens not to aid. counte- 
nance, encourage, or take part in any such unlawful ob- 
structions, combinations, assemblages, and declaring all that 
did not heed the admonition to be public enemies. He fol- 
lowed his proclamation of warning and admonition with 
another proclamation, declaring his purpose to protect the 
commerce betw r een the States, property of the Government 
or under its protection, and the right of the United States 
to use the railroads for postal, military, naval and other 
government service, and to these ends he ordered United 
States soldiers to the scene of the trouble. The presence of 
the military quelled the disturbances and restored law and 
order. 



342 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

Thus by this firm stand and vigorous action of President 
Cleveland the interruption of mails, interference with inter- 
state commerce, the destruction of government property and 
railroad property, the shedding of blood and the deaths of 
innumerable human beings were prevented. The mighty 
mob, gathering in numbers and fury every moment, was 
suppressed, and the great city of Chicago saved from proba- 
ble virtual destruction and ruin. 

The dispute between Great Britain and Venezuela, involv- 
ing the limits of British Guiana, and the firm assertion of 
President Cleveland that the Monroe doctrine would be 
maintained at all hazards, aroused the country to the point 
of regarding the situation as looking warlike. 

Venezuela was a pygmy in strength as compared to the 
strength of Great Britain. The little republic would have 
been powerless in any contest of arms with the British Em- 
pire. The increase of the area of British Guiana was de- 
manded of Venezuela, and without assistance the small and 
weak country would have been at the mercy of her powerful 
foe. 

The President, realizing the great disparity in strength of 
the contending nationalities, and that if the matter was left 
to drift it would result in the success of might without con- 
sideration of the right of the case, determined that the forci- 
ble increase by any European power of its territorial pos- 
sessions on this continent was contrary to the Monroe doc- 
trine and the established policy of this Government, and he 
entered his earnest protest against the enlargement of the 
area of British Guiana against the rights and will of Vene- 
zuela. He insisted that the whole controversy should be 
submitted to and settled by friendly and impartial arbitra- 
tors, and he called upon the British Government for a defi- 
nite answer to the question whether it would or would not 
submit the territorial controversy in its entirety to impartial 
arbitration. 

Great Britain declined to arbitrate, and the President de- 
termined that this Government should undertake to satisfy 
herself as to the true boundary of British Guiana, and if 



ARTHUR AND HARRISON GROVER CLEVELAND 343 

found that Great Britain's claim was not well founded, he 
recommended that the United States resist by every means 
in its power "as a wilful aggression upon its rights and in- 
terests, the appropriation by Great Britain of any lands or 
the exercise of governmental jurisdiction over any territory 
belonging to Venezuela." 

He expressed regret that the friendly relations between 
"the two great English-speaking peoples of the world" 
might be ruptured, but declared that no calamity which a 
great nation can invite can equal that which follows a su- 
pine submission to wrong and injustice and the consequent 
loss of National self-respect and honor, behind which are 
shielded and defended a people's safety and greatness." 

President Cleveland's firm and fearless stand for the en- 
forcement of the Monroe doctrine, and resistance to the ag- 
gression of Great Britain upon what seemed to be the rights 
of Venezuela, was condemned by those who feared war and 
injury to their stocks and bonds more than they gloried in 
National self-respect and honor; but the chivalrous and 
truly patriotic of the land commended him, and were ready, 
if need be, to carry their country's flag and plant it on the 
border line of the little republic, and bid defiance to the Brit- 
ish Lion. 

But no war resulted and no complication arose. In less 
than a year after the vigorous message of President Cleve- 
land, Great Britain changed her mind, and the boundary 
question ceased to be a bone of contention between the 
United States and Great Britain, for it was submitted to 
arbitration, and the whole matter closed by treaty. 

If a weak or nerveless man had filled the Presidential 
chair, the Monroe doctrine would have been yielded, and the 
United States would have been in the position of cringing 
at the feet of "the Mistress of the Sea," and the name of 
America would have fallen in rank among the great nation- 
alities of the earth. 



CHAPTER XIII 

BOND ISSUE CURRENCY QUESTION 

Reason for Bond Issue— President Cleveland Denounced for it— 
His Opposition to Free Silver— His Personal Traits— Patronage 
Incidents— Secretary Lamar— Secretary Manning— A Prima Facie 
Case — Acrostic. 

During President Cleveland's second term, for directing 
the Secretary of the Treasury to issue Government bonds, 
he was condemned by many — some from honest views I 
have no doubt, but a majority, I believe, from a purpose to 
find fault with his Administration and to promote another 
issue which was rapidly coming to the front. 

It seems to me that no citizen would have hurled his bolts 
as viciously at his head, and charged him with being in 
league with Wall Street and the moneyed power, as many 
did, if he had been fair-minded, posted and thoughtful. 

Time and again he had called the attention of Congress 
to the depletion of the reserve necessary to maintain the 
credit of the Government and sustain public faith in its de- 
termination to meet its sacred obligations. Congress 
turned a deaf ear to all his appeals to enact necessary meas- 
ures, and the depletion continued, and the anxiety and ap- 
prehension in business circles became intense. Despairing 
of Congressional action, in pursuance of Section 3700 of the 
Revised Statutes, and to preserve the credit and integrity of 
the Government, he directed that bonds be issued and sold 
to the amount of $62,000,000, at four per cent, payable in 
thirty years, for the purchase of gold coin, amounting to a 
sum slightly in excess of $65,000,000, to be delivered to 
the Treasury, which sum added to the gold in the reserve 
would restore the reserve to something more than $100,- 
000,000. A premium was paid upon the bonds, so as to cut 
down the rate of interest to 3! per cent, per annum. 

This is in brief "the terrible offense" President Cleveland 
committed in February, 1895. The Government received 



BOND ISSUE — CURRENCY QUESTION 345 

full value for her bonds at a low rate of interest, and with 
the money the public credit was maintained, and the anxiety 
and apprehension of business circles were relieved. 

therein was any wrong done? Was the Government in- 
jured? Was the taxpayer harmed? 

Can the most bitter partisan with a microscopic eye detect 
any wrong, injury or harm? 

Here again did President Cleveland rise to the demands 
of the occasion and protect the welfare of the people, who 
had "elected him to do their business." 

Again in 1896 he was abused and denounced as a traitor 
to his party because he refused to endorse the free and un- 
limited coinage of silver at a ratio of sixteen to one, when 
he was nominated in 1892 with his opposition to free silver 
spread out in cold print and black letters before the eyes of 
every delegate in the National Democratic Convention. 
Besides, as early as December 8, 1885, he declared against 
the dogma in a message to Congress ; again in his message 
of December 6, 1886, and again in his message of December 
3, 1888. Every delegate in the Convention of 1892 knew 
his currency views from his printed declarations then, even 
if he had failed to read his three messages prior to that time, 
or if he had read them and had forgotten what he had read. 
He sailed under no false colors; he deceived nobody; he 
did not wear two faces; he did not carry water on both 
shoulders; he did not change jackets in the play or ride two 
horses in the arena. He was elected as an anti-silver 
President and he closed his Administration as an anti-silver 
President. He was "elected to do the people's business" 
on anti-silver principles, and he did so. 

Yet, for his fidelity to his expressed convictions when he 
was nominated and for consistency with his long and oft- 
repeated views, he was assailed in 1896 with a venom that 
was astounding in many instances. 

When he was first elected he instantly threw aside sec- 
tionalism, and became in truth the first National President 
the country had had for twenty-four years. He knew no 
section, but only "a Union composed of indestructible 



346 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

States." New York was no more to him than Virginia, 
and Mississippi no more to him than Illinois. 

He selected his Cabinet, his ambassadors, consuls and 
judges, and they were taken from States regardless of geo- 
graphical lines. 

No pent-up North contracted his vision ; it ranged freely 

over the whole land. 

Into his first Cabinet he called from the United States 
Senate two of the South's most distinguished sons, L. Q. C. 
Lamar, of Mississippi, and A. H. Garland, of Arkansas— 
the first to serve as Secretary of the Interior and the latter 
as Attorney-General. 

I need not speak of the manner in which these distin- 
guished Southerners filled their important trust. I was 
thrown much with Mr. Lamar, and learned to know him 
well. There was more patronage in his department than in 
any other department of the Government, and he had at his 
disposal a vast number of positions. He was therefore be- 
sieged daily by Democratic Senators and Representatives 
for places for their constituents. 

From Buchanan's day the Republicans had virtually con- 
trolled all the patronage. The Democrats were naturally 
rapacious and very earnest in their demands. Washington 
was crowded with office-seekers, and for every position at 
the disposal of the departments there were at least twenty 
applicants, or as some member expressed it, "twenty stop- 
pers for every bottle." Democratic Senators and Repre- 
sentatives were bending all their energies "to turn the ras- 
cals out," as many said, and fill the places with their con- 
stituents. I was in the lot, fighting with might and main 
for my many friends. One day I was with Secretary 
Lamar, almost pleading with him to favor me with some of 
the places in his department. He was in a cheerful and 
happy frame of mind (often he was moody), when Senator 
Butler, of South Carolina, walked in. The Secretary re- 
ceived him cordially and said, "Look here, Butler, you are 
not here after places too?" "Yes. sir," said the Senator, 
"that's just what I am here for, but I only want a small 



BOND ISSUE — CURRENCY QUESTION 347 

place this morning. I had a darky in the war with me, and 
he was true, and I want you to give him some place. He is 
getting old." The Secretary asked the name of the darky, 
and wrote it in a notebook he carried in his pocket. He then 
resumed his conversation with me, which had been broken 
by the Senator's entrance. 

The Senator waited a few minutes and asked the Secre- 
tary if he was going to give him the place. Mr. Lamar re- 
plied : "Butler, I had a faithful old negro in the Army with 
me, whose name was Sam. The night before the Battle of 
Chickamauga I was satisfied there would be bloody work the 
next day, so I sent back to the wagon-train for Sam to come 
to where I was. When he presented himself I said, 'Sam, 
there will be a big fight to-morrow and I may be killed. If 
I am killed I want you to come to me and take my watch 
and pocket-book from my person, and then get the horses 
and go home to your mistress. Do you understand me, 
Sam.' 'Yes, Marsa, I hears an' I unde'stands yo' ; but, 
Marsa, where yo' be when yo' git kilt.' I said, 'Well, I 
don't know, but somewhere on the line. Just inquire for 
our regiment and keep on until you find me.' 'All right, 
Marsa,' said Sam ; 'but, Marsa, hadn't yo' better gib me dat 
watch an' pocket-book right now? Den I will be sure to 
have dem an' Missus will be so much surer to git dem.' 
Now, Butler, you are like Sam; you are too previous, you 
want the place right away, when I will have to look around 
and see what I can do for you." The Senator left and so 
did I, but I carried away some crumbs for my constituents 
for which I had been laboring earnestly for weeks. As I 
have said, Secretary Lamar was a moody man; sometimes 
he was genial and delightful, and then was the time to strike 
him for "spoils of victory" ; other times there was no soft- 
ness in his eye and no music in his voice, and he was rather 
hard of hearing; these were the times to let him severely 
alone. He was a great man — great in intellect and char- 
acter. 

The most popular Cabinet officer was Daniel S. Manning, 



348 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

Postmaster-General. He was a hard worker, and had even 
the smallest details of his department at his fingers ends. 

He was in full sympathy with the idea of the Democrats 
that "to the victors belong the spoils," and it was not diffi- 
cult to persuade him that James Jones, Republican post- 
master at Spring Creek, should be turned out, but it was not 
always so easy to induce him to think that John Smith or 
Israel Johnson was the man to put in Jones's place ; that is, 
he was generally ready to remove a Republican, but he was 
not willing to appoint just any sort of a Democrat; he 
would not take a man "on faith" because he had voted for 
Cleveland; he must be satisfied that he was getting a good 
man, as well as a Democrat, who would "ride through hail 
and brimstone" to vote the ticket. 

He worked rapidly, his mind acted quickly. In a 
single day he appointed forty-two postmasters for me. 
all in about three hours. Whether any other Represen- 
tative beat that record or not I never learned. In fact, I 
kept it quiet, for fear other members might complain, and 
he would go slower with me thereafter. But I made many 
other fine daily records. I remember on a certain occasion a 
member was urging the appointment of a constituent as a 
postmaster in a town, and had spoken of him in the most flat- 
tering terms, when Mr. Manning sent for all the papers on 
file. When they were brought to him, he examined them 
carefully and said : 

"This case reminds me of the definition of a prima facie 
case given by an old fellow. He said a prima facie case is 

a good case on its face, but bad in the rear. Mr. , you 

must find a better man. I can't appoint this man, he is a 
prima facie case." 

Secretary Manning was a man worthy to have filled any 
station in this Republic, and but for his death, the result I 
believe of official over-work, he would have been a promi- 
nent and most probable successful Democratic candidate for 
Presidential honors. 

Returning to Mr. Cleveland, I express the opinion that 
his judgment of men was most superior. Take his two 



BOND ISSUE — CURRENCY QUESTION 349 

Cabinets, and there was not a Cabinet officer who did not 
fully measure up to the highest standard for the position to 
which he was called. Both Cabinets were harmonious 
bodies; you never heard of Cabinet clashes or divergent 
views in Cabinet councils. It is to be presumed that there 
were at times differences of views ; it would have been most 
extraordinary if such were not the case; but they were 
surely reconciled and settled, for the outside world never 
heard of them. 

President Cleveland has been most viciously assaulted. 
But when you scan the musty pages of the chronicler of 
Washington's day and find that though the most malignant 
assaults were made upon him, that he was charged with 
being an usurper and denounced as a traitor, yet for near- 
ly a hundred years the anniversary of his birth has been 
celebrated and made a holiday, and the children of this land 
taught to revere his memory, and that from 1800, when 
Henry Lee, with eloquent tongue, proclaimed him to be the 
American who stood "first in war, first in peace, and first in 
the hearts of his countrymen," pens and tongues have re- 
peated the tribute, and millions upon millions have echoed 
and re-echoed the sentiment, we are assured that the slan- 
derer's tongue, though as venomous "as the worms of Nile," 
can inflict no permanent injury upon the true and the great. 

So, while President Cleveland has been defamed, as was 
Washington with all his valiant military service, sincere 
purposes, and patriotic impulses, the millions of American 
citizens who regard Cleveland as the greatest living Amer- 
ican can calmly wait for impartial history to vindicate him 
against every assault and hold him up, as I have said, before 
the world as a statesman without guile, a patriot without 
selfishness, a citizen true, and as a President the equal of 
any that has ever directed the destinies of this Republic. 

Just a few words as to the personal traits of Mr. Cleve- 
land. To a stranger he had the appearance of sternness, 
austerity or severity in disposition, but he was, in fact, just 
the reverse. He was ever thoughtful and reflective, and 
he did not possess that suavity and smoothness of manner 



350 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

of one who can, as occasion may arise, throw off care and 
assume cheerfulness. He had the appearance of one who 
was burdened with weighty matters and felt keenly the re- 
sponsibility resting upon him. I never heard him give a 
stern reply or stern rebuke, or saw him cast a stern glance, 
and if he ever did I venture to assert that he was justified. 

He met every caller with a bright face and cordial hand- 
shake; the tone of his voice was soft and pleasant and he 
listened patiently and gave as much time to every inter- 
viewer as justice to the many waiters would permit. In 
these interviews he was direct. He was incapable of de- 
ception or delusion. If he made an engagement he kept it, 
almost to the moment fixed, whether it was with a high offi- 
cial or an humble citizen. 

In the social circle he cast aside, as far as his nature 
would allow, all matters of state, and was bright, cheerful, 
and companionable. He enjoyed humor and was fond of a 
good story or anecdote. Beneath what seemed to be stern- 
ness or austerity in the discharge of his official duties was 
a heart as warm as the warmest, and as noble as the noblest. 

As I have said, President Cleveland was hard to shake 
from a position which he had deliberately taken, and if he 
ever made you a promise he never forgot it and would surely 
fulfil it. 

He was exceedingly kind to me, and it resulted from my 
securing his confidence in the early days of his Administra- 
tion. He had made an appointment for me, based upon my 
recommendation and the representations of others which I 
presented. 

In a day or two thereafter I ascertained that I had been 
deceived as to the character of the appointee, and that he 
was not a fit man for the place. I went immediately to the 
White House, and told the President frankly I had made a 
bad recommendation in the case mentioned. I told him 
that the removal of the man would bring down upon me the 
everlasting enmity of himself and his friends, still I must 
ask that the commission be recalled ; that I could not have 
the Administration blamed for such an appointment. The 



BOND ISSUE — CURRENCY QUESTION 351 

commission was instantly recalled, and after a while another 
appointment was made. The next time I called on him to 
secure an appointment he smiled and said, "1 hope this fel- 
low is not like that other fellow you presented?" I replied : 
"No, Mr. President. That case taught me a lesson, and 
you can rest assured I will never have another like it." He 
said : "All right. We are all liable to make mistakes, but we 
should rectify them as quickly as possible. You did this, 
and I shall be inclined to make any appointment you may 
recommend and hold you responsible if I make a mistake." 
"Very well, Mr. President," I replied. "I shall be careful, 
and if I make a bad mistake I shall not ask you to continue 
your confidence in me." 

From that time forward I had plain and easy sailing in 
my district appointments, until I asked him to remove the 
postmaster at Woodstock, who was of course a Republican, 
and appoint a certain Democrat whom I recommended. 
Here I met with a rebuff. He said, "Is not Woodstock the 
home and post-office of Senator Riddleberger of your 
State?" I replied, "Yes, sir." "Then," said he. "I cannot 
do what you ask. There is a senatorial courtesy which I 
must respect." I replied, "Mr. President, the Republicans 
did not show such courtesy to Democratic Senators." "That 
may be," he said; adding, "there are many things that Re- 
publicans have done which we ought not to do." On two 
occasions afterwards I plead with him to remove the Re- 
publican postmaster upon the ground of "offensive parti- 
sanship," but I found him as firm as ever in his determina- 
tion to let him serve out his term, as a matter of courtesy to 
the Virginia Senator, whose home was at Woodstock, and 
I abandoned my efforts, until the official's term had expired, 
and then I renewed my application for his removal, and it 
was instantly granted, and my Democratic friend and con- 
stituent was appointed in his stead. 

On another occasion he refused most emphatically to 
make a certain important appointment when he was urged 
to do so with much spirit and persistency by a very promi- 
nent gentleman holding a high station. He was not satis- 



352 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

fied with the fitness of the applicant for the position. The 
gentleman urging the appointment insisted that the Presi- 
dent should "take his word" and require nothing more. 
The reply came quick: "I would be willing to take your 
word in most matters, but I cannot assume the responsibility 
of appointing this man upon your assurance as to his fitness, 
when I am sure your friendship has blinded you to his 
faults. I will not appoint him. Please be satisfied with 
this third refusal." 

He made few promises in direct terms. If he was in- 
clined to favor you he would probably give you reason to 
hope for the best. Sometimes he would break his general 
rule and make a promise, and then you need not trouble 
yourself about it or fear it might be forgotten or over- 
looked. He was as sure to keep it as the sparks are sure to 
fly heavenward. 

I had a friend who was a lieutenant in the Army ; he was 
a splendid all-round soldier and had seen much service. He 
was anxious to be promoted to a captaincy in the Quarter- 
master Department. I visited the President and gave him 
the record of this lieutenant, laid before him strong endorse- 
ments, and asked him to promote him. He told me he 
would do so. 

This was about three months before the expiration of his 
last term. Weeks passed and no promotion came ; the lieu- 
tenant became anxious and appealed to me to see the Presi- 
dent again. I said, "No, I will not do it; rest easy, you will 
get your promotion." 

About ten days before his retirement I was in Washing- 
ton, and went to the White House to pay my respects and 
bid him farewell. I was admitted to the Executive Office; 
he stepped forward to meet me, and as he took my hand he 

said, "I suppose K has received his commission." I 

said, "I don't know." "Well," said he, "I reckon he has, 
for it was issued two days ago." Sure enough, he had, as 
I knew he would, remembered and kept his promise. 

Recently a friend of mine, Doctor George Ross, of Rich- 
mond, a great admirer of Mr. Cleveland, repeated to me an 



BOND ISSUE — CURRENCY QUESTION 353 

acrostic which he had written. At my request he gave me 
a copy, and as it accords so fully with my sentiments, I here 
insert it : 

"GROVER CLEVELAND 

"(An Acrostic) 

"Grandly he stands — unfalteringly just, 
Recreant never to public trust; 
Only his duty his beacon light, 
Varying never in doing the ritht 
Easily statesman, the first in his land, 
Reverently leading our patriot band. 

Calm and serene a pilot at post, 
Laboring to guide his nation's erreat host. 
Ever keen-scanning political skies, 
Vigorously pointing out where danger lies. 
Eagerly trailing his searchlight for truth, 
Lavishly lighting the pathway of youth. 
Always his name will, on History's pages, 
Nearest the famed be all through the ages 
Declaring this truth, he belonged to the sages." 



23 



CHAPTER XIV 

CONCLUSION 

PRESIDENT MCKINLEY GENERAL DANIEL MORGAN 

My High Esteem of President McKinley — A National President — 
Spanish-American War — The Potentiality of the Words "I Ob- 
ject" — General Daniel Morgan of Revolutionary Fame — A Wonder- 
ful Character — An Incident of a Democratic Caucus — The Death 
of Representative Taulbee — A Most Unique Character — Mrs. Gen- 
eral Custer — Some "Cranks" in Congress — Everlasting Talkers — 
The Effective and Influential Member — Close of My Official Life — 
A Proud Reflection. 

My official career ended during the Administration of 
President McKinley. With this illustrious man I had 
served several terms in Congress, and though I was a Demo- 
crat and he was a Republican, and both of us firm in our 
respective political faiths, I admired him much and had the 
honor of numbering him among my cherished personal 
friends. 

In loftiness and purity of character he was unsurpassed. 
In kindness and gentleness, in urbanity and polish of man- 
ner he had no superior. In the fiery partisan debates that 
often occurred between Northern and Southern representa- 
tives he never participated, and seemed to disapprove of 
them. He had a dignity that commanded universal respect. 
He was speaker of eloquence and power, zeal and earnest- 
ness, but never indulged in personal invective or attack. 
He was an uncompromising "protectionist," and became 
known everywhere as its leading apostle on the floor of the 
House of Representatives. 

He was rather below medium height, stout and strongly 
built. His face was handsome and his eye fine, and taking 
him all in all he bore a striking resemblance to the pictures 
we have all seen of Napoleon Bonaparte in the heyday of his 
glory. 



PRESIDENT M'KINLEY — GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 355 

I met him but twice while lie was President: first when 
Senator Daniel and I stood with him in the ample corridors 
of the Jefferson Hotel, in Virginia's Capital City, where he 
received thousands who passed forward to take his hand. 
This was on October 30, 1900, the occasion being the launch- 
ing of the torpedo boat Shrubrick at the Trigg Shipyard. 
He was a splendid hand-shaker, a good quality with a poli- 
tician, and he made a lasting impression upon the people. 

The other time I met him was in the Executive Office in 
Washington, just as the grim visage of the Spanish-Amer- 
ican War was making its appearance; there was a clamor 
for quick and decisive action, when the country was not 
fully prepared to strike and speedily end the trouble. It was 
apparent to my mind that he thought too much haste was 
demanded, that hostilities should not commence until every- 
thing was ready for a sharp and decisive blow. All will 
remember that the impatient young blood of the country 
thought he was rather slow, but he held back long enough 
"to make ready," and then he "let loose the dogs of war," 
and San Juan and Santiago ended the conflict. Cuba was 
freed, and the cruel Spanish rule which had existed for so 
many years, in spite of almost constant revolts and insur- 
rections, was banished from the island, and she soon began 
to feel the beneficent effects of an American Protectorate. 
In just one hundred and three days from the declaration of 
war came the declaration of peace. This was surely quick 
enough to satisfy and gratify the most extreme young "rire- 
eater" who had been thirsting for gore and dreaming of 
glory. 

In three months and a half the navy of a country had 
been destroyed, its forts captured, its land forces compelled 
to capitulate, and the country itself forced to appeal for 
peace, with the loss of a vast part of its territory. 

In conversation with President McKinley at the Execu- 
tive Office, to which I have referred, he gave evidence of the 
spirit that animated him in the administration of the affairs 
of this Government until the bullet of the miserable anarchist 
destroyed his noble life. He said : "Thank God we hear 



356 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

no longer the words Northerner and Southerner. If the sec- 
tions were not united heart and soul already, this trouble 
has united them. In my appointments to places in the Army, 
far be it from me to inquire whether an applicant comes 
from the North or South, or whether his antecedents are 
secession or Union, except so far as it may be necessary in 
order to apportion the appointments among the different 
States." 

By his every act and expression from the day of his first 
inauguration to his sad and tragic death, his determination 
and purpose were clearly shown to be, in truth and not mere- 
ly in name, a National President, without enmity for the 
South, without bias for the North. His wearing of a Con- 
federate badge at a Confederate reunion, and his suggestion 
that the United States Government should make appropria- 
tions for the care of Confederate Cemeteries, showed how 
full was his soul with the milk, not of human kindness 
merely, but the spirit of fraternal love. 

This was an exhibition of moral courage and superb man- 
hood that will link his name forever with the names of the 
world's most courageous and manly, most generous, mag- 
nanimous, and patriotic public servants. No President from 
the birth of this Republic to the present hour ever grew more 
rapidly in the hearts and affections of the American people 
than did William McKinley, and when he was lying, hov- 
ering between life and death, the prayers that ascended to 
the Throne of Grace for his recovery from every section of 
this Republic were as countless as the leaves of a forest. 

William McKinley was truly a National President. He 
had as much faith in the patriotism of the South as he had 
in the patriotism of the North. He would have trusted a 
Virginia Division to lead a forlorn hope as soon as he 
would have trusted a Massachusetts Division. There was 
not a spark of sectional feeling in his soul. 

He loved the whole constellation, and one star was as 
dear to him as another. 

He loved his American soil, and the cotton-fields of Geor- 
gia and wheat-fields of Tennessee delighted his eye with 



PRESIDENT M KINLEY — GEN. DANI1.I. 1101 CAN 357 

their opening bolls and golden sheaves as much as the ore 
beds of Pennsylvania and the pine clusters of Maine. Ik- 
loved his country's oceans, lakes, bays, and rivers, and the 
white sails of commerce on their bosoms tilled him with 
pride from whatsoever clime they came, North, South, ! . 
or West. 

There are many things in my memory, not already men- 
tioned, in connection with Congress, some of which at least 1 
think will bear recording in these recollections of my Con- 
gressional life. 

The words "I object" are most potential words under the 
rules of Congress, and a thousand times have I heard them 
ring out to the chagrin, disappointment, and sorrow r of mem- 
bers. To take a bill from the calendar out of its order for 
consideration requires general consent, and the two words 
"I object" will prevent it and leave your bill, however im- 
portant to your constituents or meritorious it may be, with 
perhaps a hundred or more ahead of it, and where it will 
not be reached during the term under the regular call. 

I suffered most painfully on several occasions, but par- 
ticularly three times in relation to a particular bill. It was 
a bill to preserve and mark the grave of General Daniel 
Morgan, of Revolutionary fame, the hero of the Cowpens, 
January 17, 1781, who had marched with his riflemen from 
the Valley of Virginia to the Commons of Boston, six hun- 
dred miles in three weeks, in the dead of winter; to whom 
Congress had voted a gold medal ; whose figure in his hunt- 
ing shirt has been preserved on canvas in the grand paint- 
ing representing the surrender of Burgoyne at Saratoga, 
October 17, 1777, hanging in the Capitol of the Nation; 
who had risen from the position of wagoner on the expedi- 
tion to Fort Duquesne to that of a brigadier-general. 

He died on the 6th day of July, 1802, at the age of sixty- 
six years, after serving two years in Congress, and was 
buried in the Presbyterian Church-yard at Winchester. Vir- 
ginia. When I was less than ten years of age my grand- 
mother, who as a girl had attended the funeral, took me to 
his grave, and standing over it told me of his great services 



358 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE SERVICE 

to his country, of the funeral procession, the measured tread 
and sad faces of his comrades, the fife and muffled drum, 
and the volley that was fired as the clods filled the open 
grave. This made a lasting impression upon me, and there 
was no bill of its character on the calendar in which I felt 
an interest near so deep. I secured several favorable re- 
ports from the committee, but never early enough in a ses- 
sion to get it sufficiently high on the calendar to be reached 
on the regular call, and three times did the words "I object" 
prevent its consideration out of order. 

I had my heart set upon its passage ; every emotion of my 
soul was aroused in its behalf. I had carefully studied the 
hero's life and character and it was like a romance to me. 

When about seventeen years of age he came from either 
Pennsylvania or New Jersey, the latter State I think, to 
Frederick County, Virginia, and engaged himself as 
a land grubber, then as a sawyer, and then he 
went to work as a wagoner on his own account. He 
was rather a pugnacious fellow and an athlete, and en- 
gaged frequently in broils and fisticuffs, and with one ex- 
ception was always the victor. At that time Berryville, the 
present county-seat of Clarke County, was called Battletown, 
and it derived its name from the number of fistic battles that 
occurred there on every "law day," a day set apart in each 
month for the trial of small law suits. Morgan would at- 
tend these trials, and almost invariably he would have "a 
scrap" before leaving for home. On one of these occasions 
he was badly worsted by a powerful young fellow from the 
Blue Ridge Mountains; reaching home very much morti- 
fied over his defeat, his wife, who was a lady of culture and 
refinement, upbraided him severely, as she had done before, 
for his "rowdyism," and begged him for her sake to change 
his ways. He promised her solemnly he would do so, after 
he had whipped the young mountaineer. When the next 
law day came he told his wife he could not succeed in his 
coming combat, with his long hair, and asked her to clip 
it short. 



PRESIDENT M'KINLEY — GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 359 

His wife admired his long flowing locks and declined to 
clip them, but told him she would "fix" his hair for him, 
and this she proceeded to do. She dexterously wove pins 
and needles all through his hair, and he left for Battletown, 
where he found his antagonist ready and waiting for him. 

He returned that evening a victor and a happy man. His 
wife's ingenuity had won the fight for him. He kept his 
promise to his wife and never engaged in another fistic en- 
counter at Battletown. 

General Morgan owned two fine farms in Clarke County 
at his death, upon which, during the war, he had erected two 
handsome dwellings of native limestone, with the labor of 
Hessian prisoners, one situated near Berryville, which he 
called "Soldiers' Rest," and the other near Millwood, which 
he called "Saratoga." These two houses are still standing, 
bearing the names Morgan gave them, well preserved, and 
the former is the residence of Powell Page, Esq., and the 
latter the home of Edward C. Barnett, Esq., and at each old 
Virginia hospitality is dispensed with lavish hand. 

Some years ago, when the old Presbyterian Church and 
fence had crumbled and fallen and were only limestone piles, 
several thoughtful and patriotic citizens of Winchester re- 
moved the remains of this hero to the City Cemetery, and 
they now rest there amidst its beautiful bowers, cared for 
by gentle hands. 

I most sincerely trust some future representative of my 
old Congressional district will succeed in inducing the Gov- 
ernment to erect a monument over the grave of this distin- 
guished soldier and patriot, who did so much in our struggle 
for independence, and received the thanks of his country and 
the plaudits of Washington. 

The Committee on Claims was greatly taxed with what 
were termed "Loyal Claim Bills"; they were bills presented 
by Southern men declaring their loyalty to the Union dur- 
ing the war, and seeking payment for losses they had sus- 
tained at the hands of Federal troops. 

The vast majority of these claims were fraudulent ; many 
of the claimants had voted for secession, carried bann< 



360 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

and huzzahed in secession processions. They sought to 
meet this evidence by declaring they were afraid not to 
vote for secession or be demonstrative on public occasions. 
Others had never uttered, so far as known, a Union senti- 
ment during the war; they had given of their substance 
without coercion for the support of the "rebellion," and had 
been regarded by their communities as true to the cause of 
the Confederacy. To the credit of the committee let it be 
said that all such claimants were sent away empty-handed. 

There was a class whose claims were more or less meri- 
torious. I refer to the German Baptists, or Tunkers. These 
people were non-combatants, they were opposed to war and 
opposed to a division of the Union; they refrained from 
voting on the ordinance of secession and were as near Un- 
ionists and as loyal to the Union as circumstances would 
permit. Quite a number of their claims were paid. 

Upon the whole the Treasury was well guarded against 
the raids of so-called Southern Unionists. But it was sur- 
prising how many who had been regarded during the War 
as true to the Confederacy as the truest, developed into 
Union men when the bill passed allowing Southern Union 
men to present their claims for consideration. While I say 
the number was surprising, they were, comparatively speak- 
ing, very few — not greater than a few imperfect grains in 
a bushel of seed corn. 

Members of Congress are but men after all, and they have 
the impulses of men. 

In a Democratic caucus held to nominate candidates for 
the various offices of the House I was an eye-witness to a 
little rough-and-tumble encounter between two prominent 
members that would have brought applause in any gathering 
of "the manly art." The gentlemen were the respective lead- 
ers of two opposing candidates, and had worked themselves 
up to the righting point. One, whom I shall call Mr. C, 
had put his man in nomination in a spirited speech; the 
other, whom I shall designate as Mr. D., was placing his 
candidate before the caucus, speaking with great delibera- 
tion, and said, "The gentleman who has preceded me said 



PRESIDENT M'KINLEY — GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 36 1 

that which was dis-hon-or-a-ble — " Instantly Mr. C, who 
was sitting- close to where Mr. D. was speaking, sprang from 
his seat and rushed at Mr. D. They clinched, and before 
they could be separated the face of each showed marks of 
blows and was bleeding. 

They were taken to different toilet-rooms, but quickly re- 
turned to the floor, and instantly rushed into each other's 
arms. An explanation had been made, satisfactory to both, 
and the casus belli removed. The encounter had resulted 
from Mr. D.'s deliberate mode of speaking; he had not fin- 
ished his sentence — he had intended to say that "the gentle- 
man who has preceded me has said that which was dis-hon- 
or-a-ble to me." Mr. C. thought Mr. D. meant that he, Mr. 
C, had made some dishonorable statement in his speech. 

The death of Representative Taulbee, of Kentucky, at the 
hands of a newspaper reporter, also a Kentuckian, which at- 
tracted so much attention at the time, was the result of a 
feud which grew out of a violent attack made upon Taulbee 
by the reporter. 

Taulbee was a tall, athletic, wiry man of about forty. The 
reporter was by no means his equal physically, and Taulbee 
had refrained from making a direct assault upon him, but on 
several occasions he had undertaken to humiliate his oppo- 
nent. Whether stung to desperation by Taulbee's course or 
instigated by fear of him, I know not, the reporter armed 
himself with a pistol, and meeting Taulbee on the steps lead- 
ing down to the restaurant of the House of Representatives, 
without the slightest warning to him or knowledge upon his 
part that his enemy was near, the reporter shot him, inflict- 
ing a wound from which death ensued in a few days. The 
reporter was tried, and after a protracted hearing was ac- 
quitted by the jury. The verdict was condemned by many, 
while others sustained it. Taulbee was a man of fine ability 
and a fluent and attractive speaker. 

A most unique character was Honorable James B. Bel- 
ford, of Colorado. His most admiring friends would not 
say he was a handsome or prepossessing man in person or 
manner. He had fire-red hair, scrubby red beard, and shuf- 



362 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

fling gait, and on the street would have been taken any time 
for a recently-landed son of the Emerald Isle, from Tipper- 
ary, inviting any man to knock the chip off his hat or step 
on his coat-tail. But he was as genial as a sunbeam, full of 
humor, quick at pleasant repartee, a splendid speaker, and a 
man of fine ability. He had been raised a Democrat in Penn- 
sylvania, but embraced Republicanism when, as he said, "he 
got from under his father's wing, and got his eyes open." 
He had been a gallant Union soldier, and after making a trip 
to the Fredericksburg Battle-field he introduced a bill to ap- 
propriate $100,000 to build a Confederate Soldier's Home 
at the "Old Burg." He prepared a speech in support of his 
bill, but was never able to secure an opportunity to de- 
liver it. 

He said in my presence, during a session of the House, 
after he had returned from a trip to Fredericksburg : "Well, 
I am just from Fredericksburg, Spottsylvania and the Wil- 
derness. I was never as royally treated in my life as I was 
by those Virginians over there. Just think, that I was try- 
ing to kill such people for four years, and they were trying 
to kill me — both of us thinking we were doing God service. 
But all that sort of feeling has left me. Now I want to say 
to my Republican friends that I have waved the bloody- 
shirt many a time, but from this time on I am no bloody- 
shirt waver. We must win our battles some other way, so 
far as I am concerned. I'm done waving, sure." 

He was a general favorite, and his retirement caused uni- 
versal regret. I hope he is still living, for he was a splendid 
type of manhood. 

The heavy pensions that were granted to the widows of 
Federal officers was opposed by many of us. I always 
thought that the pension granted to an officer's widow was 
too great in comparison with the pension awarded to the 
widow of a private soldier, and voted uniformly against very 
large pensions to the widows of distinguished officers. 

But there was one bill of this nature which I determined 
not to oppose. It was caused by my supreme admiration 
for the dead officer and the personality and magnetism of 



PRESIDENT m'kINLEY GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 363 

his widow. Judge Chipman, of Michigan, invited me one 
evening to go with him to the Member's gallery and meet 
a lady, who was a warm friend of his, and as he said, 
"among the most charming women on the Continent." I 
went with him, and to my utter surprise but infinite pleas- 
ure he introduced me to Mrs. General Custer. After re- 
maining for a few minutes, the Judge excused himself and 
left me with Mrs. Custer. 

Never in my life was I more charmed than I was 
with the vivacity and personality of this little lady. I drew 
her gradually into a conversation about her army life, and 
finally about her lamented soldier husband. She gave me 
a minute account of his last battle, his courage and death, 
and the cruelty and brutality of Sitting Bull and his band of 
Indians. With her eyes filling with tears she pictured the 
scene in a manner no tongue on earth could have equaled. 

I remained with her as long as propriety, upon so short 
an acquaintance, would allow, and when I bade her good- 
by it was with a fixed mental resolution that I would cast 
consistency to the winds, break my rule, and not vote against 
her bill for an increased pension, which was pending. I 
adhered to my resolution. I determined to make an excep- 
tion of the widow of he who rode to death on a field 
where no comrade was left to tell the tale, no human being 
to carry the tidings of his last charge, except an Indian 
scout, who, with a Sioux blanket wrapped about him, suc- 
ceeded in escaping. But Mrs. Custer's information had not 
been obtained simply from this Indian scout, but from Sioux 
braves who had been engaged in the massacre. 

I have said, Congress is a body of might in intellect and 
superb in the personnel of its members, but it is rarely en- 
tirely free from "cranks" or accidental men, and occasionally 
cranky bills find their way into the committee rooms. I 
recall a bill introduced by a member who was neither a 
Democrat nor a Republican, but had been elected from a sec- 
tion which abounded at the time in new and strange doc- 
trines and isms. It was entitled a bill "To create the United 
States of the World." He proposed that all kingdoms and 



364 FORTY YEARS OE ACTIVE) SERVICE 

principalities should constitute one mighty Republic; that 
the United States should absorb all the land and waters and 
peoples of the known globe, and become "the United States 
of the World." He seemed to regard this country as "a 
pent-up Utica," and as an expansionist he would overshadow 
the most expansive expansionist of the present day. The 
acquisition of the Philippines with its 1,200 islands and its 
area of 112,500 square miles is but as a drop in a bucket 
as compared with the expansion suggested by the bill to 
which I have referred. 

It is needless for me to say that this bill, with its high- 
sounding title, was instantly laid away with the mass of dead 
and embalmed measures, the accumulation of all the Con- 
gresses from the organization of the Republic. 

In every Congress there are members who are everlasting 
talkers. Whatever may be the subject, they must get their 
views in the Record "by hook or crook." If they can secure 
the floor for five minutes or less they will ask permission 
to extend their remarks in the Record, and their five-minute 
speeches on the floor will blaze out into hour speeches in the 
Congressional Record, punctuated all through with "ap- 
plause," and these publications will go forth to their con- 
stituents as lengthy and telling efforts upon the part of their 
ready and able representatives. I recall several members 
who were constantly making five-minute speeches on the 
floor, and then in a few days their elaborations would cover 
several pages of the Record. I always regarded the custom 
as little less than a fraud, which should be suppressed. There 
are instances when it should be tolerated, but they are rare, 
and then it should be noted that the speeches were never in 
fact delivered. They should appear rather as essays than 
as speeches. 

There are also incessant, really long-winded speeches by 
some members ; they never attend a committee meeting, but 
occupy their whole time in preparing speeches. They are 
anxious to keep their names before the people, and they do 
it daily through the columns of the Record, which costs 
them nothing. During the effort of one of these leather- 



PRESIDENT M'KINEEY GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 365 

lunged and long-winded gentlemen, with the galleries asleep, 
when nearly all the members had retired to the cloak-rooms, 
the Speaker of the House looking like he was doing penance, 
or bearing it all with Job-like patience, I was in my seat, 
and turning around I said to Hon. S. S. Cox, who sat just 
at my back, "Mr. Cox, what is the difference between no- 
toriety and fame?" Instantly he replied, "The same differ- 
ence there is between swill and pure water." Then, with a 
twinkle in his eye, he turned his head in the direction of the 
speaker, and said, "Isn't all that swilly?" 

Let no constituency flatter themselves with the idea that 
because their Representative's name is appearing frequently 
in the press and he is making a speech on subject after sub- 
ject, that he is setting the woods on fire with his burning 
words, or charming multitudes with his flaming eloquence, 
or driving the steel home with his blows of logic, or writing 
his name in the niche of fame, or serving his constituency 
with efficiency. Such representatives are neither the giants 
nor effective men of the House; they become "as sounding 
brass and a tinkling cymbal," and the House tolerates them 
because it cannot help itself. 

The effective and influential member is he who is a faith- 
ful attendant upon the meetings of his committee, who makes 
its work a specialty, studies it well, and is prepared to dis- 
cuss his committee matters intelligently and forcefully ; who 
takes up other subjects when he can do so without neglect- 
ing his special work, who knows when to talk and when to 
stop, who attends strictly to the demands of his constituents 
in the departments, and does not consume the time that 
should be given in this direction in preparing speeches, so 
that notice of him may appear in the next morning's press. 

Everlasting speech-making has done more to relegate 
members to the shades of private life than any one thing, ex- 
cepting intemperance or dissolute habits. I knew members 
who never answered a letter, never attended a committee 
meeting, never visited a department, but were daily on the 
floor speaking. The Congressional lives of such men were 



366 FORTY YEARS OF ACTIVE SERVICE 

usually short; their constituents wanted less talk and more 
work. They seemed to be unable to condense or speak suc- 
cinctly on any subject, but "drew out the thread of their 
verbosity finer than the staple of their argument." 

But nothing that I have said must be regarded as a modi- 
fication of the high estimate I have previously placed upon 
the Congress of the United States in these memoirs. Most 
of the members whom I have just mentioned were far more 
than mediocre men; they simply lacked judgment, made 
mistakes, misconceived the true line of a Representative, and 
while seeking fame they only gained short-lived notoriety. 

There was one member with whom I served who appeared 
to be congenitally and constitutionally the most irritable and 
ill-tempered human being I have ever seen in high station. 
He had most peculiar views, and if you disagreed with them 
he would become as irritable and snappish as a hyena, and 
if you agreed with him he would swear that you were an 
ape and had no views of your own. He was among the very 
few who made me wonder how he ever made his way into 
the halls of Congress. His people did not repeat their folly 
at the succeeding election. 

My official life ended at the close of my gubernatorial 
term of four years, January first, 1898. I had served three 
years of a term of six years, as a court clerk, elected when 
a boy. I had served two years in the legislature, six years 
as judge, twelve years as a member of Congress, and four 
years as Governor of my native State, aggregating twenty- 
seven years of almost continuous service. My friends had 
been most successful in bringing me victories in my numer- 
ous contests, and to them I owe a debt of gratitude I can 
never discharge. All of these positions, except the judge- 
ship, came to me directly from the people and by the ballot- 
box, 

"A weapon that comes down as still 
As snowflakes fall upon the sod ; 
But executes a free man's will 
As lightning does the will of God." 



PRESIDENT M'KINLEV — GEN. DANIEL MORGAN 367 

I have the proud reflection that will go with me through 
the remainder of my days, that not even my bitterest foe, 
political or personal, ever laid a charge at my door of neglect 
of duty or the wilful doing of an improper act. It is hum. in 
to err, and in some instances, with the lights before me and 
no time for inquiry, my acts were different lrom what they 
would have been if facts subsequently developed had been 
before me. 

My refusal to espouse the cause of free silver in 1896 
and 1900 relegated me to the shades of private life. For 
my course I have no regrets, except the regret I experienced 
at the time, of being compelled "to part company" with so 
many of my political friends with whom I had been closely 
allied in many a fierce political battle. The eight years that 
have intervened since I declined to vote the ticket of tin- 
party whose real principles were next to my religious faith 
have wrought a mighty change, and I rejoice that my posi- 
tion of 1896 is the Democratic position of 1904. 

When Appomattox sealed the doom of the Confederacy 
I took my parole and kept it. Quickly after the surremkT 
of the spotless Lee and "grim-visaged war had smoothed his 
wrinkled brow," while still cherishing the deeds and memo- 
ries of the cause for which I had fought until the last war 
note had passed away, I renewed my allegiance to my re- 
united land, and henceforward endeavored by precept ami 
example to add my mite to the growing spirit of fraternal 
unionism. And now while I love my State with all the de- 
votion of a true and loyal son, I look with love and pride 
upon the flag, wherever it floats, as the emblem of American- 
ism. 



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